


Safe to Stay

by callistawolf



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:44:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callistawolf/pseuds/callistawolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The unthinkable happens and Team Arrow is left reeling in the aftermath.  Oliver needs Felicity now more than ever to keep his demons at bay.  Is she up to the challenge and how will this change their relationship?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When my world was dark and blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A faceoff against Slade results in an unbearable loss and traumatic injury for Oliver.

Smattering rain pelted the small and tense group of people who were gathered on the dark rooftop of the Queen Consolidated building.  This was a standoff, an impasse.  An impossible choice.  

“Slade, this is absurd!  How are you any better than Ivo right now?” Oliver cried, willing his former friend to see some sort of reason.  He wore his green Arrow leathers, but the hood was down, the mask was off.  There was no point in hiding now; everyone here knew him now.  Even Laurel. 

He looked to her now, on her knees on the rough gravel of the rooftop.  She had tears streaming down her face, her makeup smudged.  But her eyes were accusatory as she met his glance.  She knew he was the Arrow now and she clearly blamed him for this miss. 

As well she should. 

His bow lay fifteen feet away, tossed aside when Slade had instructed him to do so.  He could hear Dig and Felicity over the comm in his ear, trying to get to him as quickly as possible.  He couldn’t reply to them without Slade knowing he was in contact with them so he stayed quiet.  But the tracker in his boot was working and he knew his team would know where to find him.  They were close, from the sounds of it. 

The bad news was that there was no way they’d get to him in time. 

“I was _born_ better, kid,” Slade sneered in reply.  “I could have just had her--” He nudged Sara’s kneeling form with the tip of his boot, “--shot as soon as she showed up in town again.  And I knew she’d show up.  Threaten her sister and she came running.  So predictable.  Still, I thought _this_ whole scene would be so much more poetic.  This way, you have another opportunity to make the correct choice and I get to have my vengeance.”

“Laurel has _nothing_ to do with this!” 

“She has _everything_ to do with this!  You carried her picture around with you for five years.  You really had me think she was the love of your fucking life.”  Slade paced behind the bound, kneeling women, his gun drawn, pointing it randomly at each of them but never at Oliver himself.

“But then you took up with Shado.  And I thought, maybe the kid is lonely.  Then, this one shows up from beyond the grave,” he growled, and this time, his boot didn’t just nudge Sara.  He kicked her hard enough to have her breath gusting from her.  “And I find out she’s your dearest love’s little sister and she’d been with you when your boat wrecked.  Is that what men in love do?  Screw their sweetheart’s sisters?  That was my first hint, you see, that you were nothing but a complete asshole.”

Slade continued pacing while Oliver half hoped he’d just get to the point already and the other half hoped that he’d keep on rambling so his team could have a chance to get here on time.  His former friend’s words were bruising, however.  And he wished the man would stop reminding him of all the many ways in which he’d fucked up over the years. 

“You see, Ivo didn’t use the proper motivation with you.  But then, this one,” he paused, gesturing to Laurel, “wasn’t actually handy at the time.  But that’s why things went bad, you see.  You didn’t really love Shado.  Not like _I_ did.  She was just your piece of island ass.  You used her and then you threw her away.  And she _died_ because of it.”

Oliver gasped against the pain of his accusation.  The truth of what he said resonated within him.  He was poison and he hurt everyone he cared about.  It was why he’d told Felicity he couldn’t be with someone he really cared about because look what happened when he was?  

“Slade, I’ve already told you, so many times.  I didn’t choose.  I _couldn’t_.  He pointed the gun at Sara and I jumped in front of her.  I wanted him to shoot _me_ instead!” Oliver insisted. 

“You should have protected Shado.  Not this piece of trash.” 

The girls squirmed and Oliver glanced at Sara.  She looked mad enough to spit nails and she might have done just that if she weren’t gagged like her sister.  

“I would have protected both of them if I could,” Oliver admitted. 

“You couldn’t then,” Slade said, his voice a little horse.  Then, he cleared his throat and came to a stop between the women, standing with his feet planted.  “And you can’t now.”  He held up his gun again, pointing it first at the back of Sara’s head, then at Laurel’s.  “So choose, Queen.  You can’t have your cake and eat it too.  That was as true then as it is now.  And we’re officially out of time.”

“Slade, please.  Let’s just talk about this.  You and me.”

“At the count of three.”

“Please!  Don’t do this!” Oliver begged.  Hysteria began to claw at him, fraying his control.  He could hear Felicity and Dig on the comms and could tell they were at the QC building.  His brilliant girl and his brother in arms... they’d found him, tracked him and were coming to help.  But they were still forty floors away. 

“Three...”

“If you have to kill someone, kill me!”

“Nah.  I have other plans for _you_.  Two...”

“Slade!  I’m begging you!”

“One... choose now, loverboy!”

“Slade!  No!” he screamed, desperate. 

“Wrong answer.”  The other man’s gravelly voice declared and it echoed painfully in his ears. 

Time seemed to slow down around them.  Oliver could see the individual raindrops falling through the night sky around them, the splash of them as they struck the metal of Slade’s gun.  Everything happened slowly and with such purpose and Oliver could see every change around them clearly as it occurred.  The aiming of the gun at the back of Sara’s head.  The tears coursing down Laurel’s cheeks.  The muffled cries from both of the women.  The crunch of the gravel as Oliver tried to step forward, to get Slade to turn his attention on him.  But it was too late because there was a deafening roar as Slade fired his gun. 

That was when time sped back up again.  Oliver watched in helpless horror as the bullet hit the back of Sara’s head, causing her to fall forward onto the gravel rooftop.  There was a cacophony of sound then, Laurel’s muffled screaming, his own hoarse shouting as he lunged towards Slade blindly, and then... other voices joined theirs. 

The door to the roof swung open and Dig and Felicity were there.  Moments too late.  Dig instantly rushed forward to help Oliver try to subdue Slade while Felicity went directly to Laurel to release her bonds. 

Slade was too much for Oliver himself to handle.  Especially now that he’d been so thoroughly emotionally compromised.  With Dig on his side, he might have an edge.  Maybe.  They both came at him from both sides, keeping him occupied and trying to stay one step ahead of him.  Oliver knew his old friend’s fight moves well and dodged while Dig landed blows.  Dig, unfortunately, wasn’t as familiar and Slade was able to toss him aside as though he were nothing more than a sack of potatoes. 

Oliver was dimly aware of Felicity and Laurel, working together to carry Sara’s body to the stairwell door.  Relief flooded him even as he narrowly dodged one of Slade’s kicks to his torso.  With them out of harm’s way, he could concentrate better on fighting his old friend.  

 

 

***

Laurel and Felicity worked wordlessly together, carrying Sara down the stairs until they reached the landing of the floor where Oliver’s offices were located.  

“In here,” Felicity grunted and they moved through a few doors, Felicity pausing to open doors with her security badge until they reached Oliver’s office at last.  They lay Sara down on the sofa there.  Laurel looked almost ready to collapse herself, so Felicity hurried to pull a chair over next to the sofa.  The other woman sank down slowly, never once taking her eyes off her sister’s body. 

“I need to make a couple of calls,” Felicity said, holding up her cell phone.  “Will you be okay for a minute?”

Laurel nodded mutely, taking one of Sara’s limp hands in her own.  Felicity chewed her lip, reluctant to leave the other woman.  After all, Laurel had just suffered several horrible shocks on top of her sister being brutally murdered right next to her.  She’d learned Sara was still alive and living as a masked vigilante.  She’d learned Oliver was the Arrow and he’d been hiding this from her all this time.  

But these calls couldn’t wait.  Even now, Felicity’s gut was twisting with anxiety as she imagined Oliver and Dig trying to fight Slade up on the roof.  She stepped out of the office and pulled up a simple tracking program on her cell phone.  A flashing red dot told her that Roy had made it to the building.  Glad she’d thought to notify him when she and Dig had left the foundry earlier, she dialed Roy’s number.  A moment later, he picked up, saying her name in greeting.  

“Roof!” she barked.  “They’re up on the roof! Hurry!”

“Great.  How do I get there?” came the breathless reply. 

She gave him quick directions before hanging up.  Feeling a little better knowing that Roy would get there soon, she pulled the other number she had to call up on her phone’s address book.  Roy had become a major asset to Team Arrow in the last several months.  Oliver had been hesitant to rely on him at first, citing the boy’s unpredictable mood swings.  Felicity had firmly believed that if they gave Roy constructive outlets, that he could better channel and control his rage.  So far, it was working. 

As Felicity waited for her call to Lance to connect, she wished anyone else could do this instead of her.  She genuinely liked Lance, and she hated to have to be the one to break this horrible news to him.  At the same time, she knew that he’d want to know as soon as possible.  She could do this for him. 

“Lance,” the older man’s gruff voice said, answering the call. 

“Hi, Officer.  This is Felicity Smoak.”

There was a short pause.  “What’s happened?” he asked.  “You wouldn’t be calling me if something bad wasn’t going on.”

“Yeah.  I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” she began, fighting to keep the wobble out of her voice.  “I need you to come down to the Queen Consolidated building right away.”

“Tell me.”

She bit her lip.  Turns out, she was a bit of a coward after all.  “Just come.  Hurry.”

She hung up and, slipping the phone back into her jeans pocket, returned to where Laurel still sat, holding Sara’s slack hand in hers.  She was no longer crying, but her eyes didn’t leave Sara’s face as Felicity pulled another chair over next to hers and took a seat.  

“I called your dad,” she said.  There was no acknowledgement from the other woman.  “I’m very sorry.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice low. 

There was silence for a few minutes and Felicity felt truly helpless.  There was nothing she could say that would help Laurel feel any better so she just sat quietly and waited. 

“So, you knew all along?” Laurel finally asked. 

Felicity assumed she was asking about more than just Sara’s reappearance in Starling City but thought that’s where she’d start.  “Yeah, I did.”

“How long?”

“I knew Sara was alive since the autumn.  She came to town and we crossed paths with her.  She... didn’t want us to tell you.  She made Oliver promise not to tell, in fact.  She did visit your dad though.  He knew,” she said, gently. 

Laurel’s face pinched with grief for a moment until she took a deep breath and her features smoothed out again.  “And... Oliver?  How long did you... ?” 

“A little over a year,” she admitted.  “Sometimes it feels as though its been longer than that.  He started coming to me for help shortly after he returned to Starling City.  He brought me into the team a little over a year ago when... well, he didn’t have much choice.”

“All this time?” she asked, sounding a little choked.  “I guess that makes sense, then.”

“What does?”  Laurel wasn’t making sense and Felicity began to worry that the shock and stress were starting to get to her.  

Laurel ignored her question and switched subjects. “Who exactly was that man?  The one Ollie and his bodyguard are fighting.  He grabbed me outside the courthouse but he didn’t seem to want to spend any time on introductions.  He seemed to know me, though.  Ollie called him Slade.”

Felicity nodded.  “He’s someone Oliver knew on the island.  Oliver thought he was dead.”

Laurel’s brow creased.  “But... he said he was alone on the island all those years.”

Fighting a smirk, she replied, “Would this be the only thing he’s lied about, then?”

“Good point.  So, do you know why?  I tried to follow what Slade said up on the roof but none of it made any sense.”

Felicity saw Laurel’s hand tighten on Sara’s and she knew that nothing she could tell her would come even close to explaining why Slade had murdered her sister.  That didn’t mean she didn’t want answers anyhow. “They used to be friends.  I know Slade was responsible for some of his training.  Then, something happened.  Oliver doesn’t like to talk about it, but I’ve caught snatches here and there.  Something happened with Sara and a woman named Shado and I think... that’s what caused this rift between them and that’s what this whole fight right now is about.”

“Who was Shado? Slade made it sound like they were...”

“Yeah, pretty sure they were.  She was a girl he knew on the island.  I think they... both loved her.”

“Good lord,” Laurel muttered. 

“Tell me about it.”

They fell silent again and Felicity just watched Laurel’s thumb move in slow circles over the back of Sara’s knuckles.  

“I liked her,” she said, at last.  Partly to fill the silence and partly because it was the truth. “Sara was nice to me.  She was an awesome fighter and a strong woman.  I admired her.”

“Thanks.  I wish I’d had more time with her.”

“I think she wished that too. She missed you.  All of you...”

As if on cue, Lance came running into the room.  Immediately, Felicity got to her feet and backed out of the room, wanting to give the Lances the opportunity to grieve together privately.  Their combined sobs echoed through the empty offices as she headed right for the stairs that lead to the roof, no longer able to ignore her need to know if they were okay.  If _Oliver_ was okay. 

Please.  Let him be okay. 

As she neared the roof access door, she heard voices.  One of them grunted in pain.   _Oliver_.  She pushed out the door quickly, heedless of any danger might still exist out there. 

Roy and Dig were crouched next to Oliver, who lay on the gravel.  A quick glance told her that Slade was lying a short distance away, still.  Dead, she hoped.  Normally, she wasn’t so bloodthirsty, but seeing the trouble this man had caused, she made an exception. 

“Oliver!” she cried, rushing to his side.  He was awake, his face contorted with pain.  She fell to her knees next to him and her hand went immediately to his face.  His cheek was cold under her fingers.  “What happened?”

“Slade shot him.  He was still fighting though, until the bastard crushed his leg,” Roy explained.  

Felicity looked down to see his leather pants torn and bloody and Oliver’s leg laying at a gruesome angle.  “Where is she shot?”

“Chest.  We think the bullet might have nicked his lung.  He keeps coughing up blood.”

“He needs the hospital,” she said and she met Dig’s eyes.  The other man nodded grimly.  

“I agree.  I have a knife, we can cut the pants off of him, the jacket too.  Roy can take the hood and mask and Slade’s body back to the foundry.  I’ll meet you there later and we’ll take care of him.”

Roy nodded.  “I can do that.”

Between the three of them, they got Oliver stripped out of his leathers so he was left only in a pair of black boxer briefs and a grey t-shirt.  Roy helped Digg carry Oliver down to the elevators, careful to avoid Oliver’s office where the Lances were still gathered and where surely there would soon be more attention.  Felicity wondered what story Laurel might tell her father.  Would she tell him the truth and expose Oliver?  She probably should have asked for her discretion.  She’d had a lot on her mind though.  

From the elevators, it was a quick trip to the Bentley which was waiting at the curb where Dig had parked it earlier.  Once Oliver was tucked safely into the backseat, Roy headed back up to the roof and Felicity and Dig jumped into the car to head for the hospital.  Oliver wheezed in the backseat, now more unconscious than conscious. 

“What’s our cover story?” she asked Dig as he maneuvered the car quickly through the streets of Starling City towards the hospital. 

“Given his current state of dress,” Dig said, flicking a glance at Oliver in the rearview mirror, “maybe we should just be predictable and go with the ‘angry husband came home early’ excuse.”

Felicity snorted.  Even given the seriousness of the situation, she had to admit, that would be an easy story to pass.  The press all seemed to believe Oliver was the same womanizing playboy he’d been before the island and that belief might just help him this time. 

“So the husband comes home, finds Oliver shagging his wife, shoots him.  How do we explain the broken femur?”

Dig hummed thoughtfully.  “Maybe he fell out a window after he was shot?  And we don’t want to bring up husband or the wife because we want to keep the scandal out of the papers.”

“Alright, that could work.  What about us though?  Why are we here?”

“Well, I’m his bodyguard so I can say I was waiting, er, out front for him to be finished.  You on the other hand...  Maybe I should drop you off at home.”

“No way!  I’m not leaving him now,” Felicity insisted.  She looked over her shoulder at Oliver.  He was definitely unconscious now and she could see from the front seat that his breathing was shallow and labored.  “Hurry, Dig.”

“We’ll have to go with current girlfriend then,” Dig told her.  “Nothing else is plausible. I called you when I found him and picked you up on the way to the hospital.”

Felicity swallowed nervously.  It felt wrong, to pose as his girlfriend.  She was almost completely certain Oliver would argue against it.  She might have entertained the notion of them being a couple now and then over the time she’d known him but she’d never actually put any serious thought behind the possibility.  Oliver was completely unattainable and she was fairly sure, completely uninterested in her that way.  Still, if it helped keep her by Oliver’s side for the time being, she was willing to go ahead with it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm flying more blind on this than I'm used to. I normally have detailed outlines but the last couple of fics I've done detailed outlines for I'm having a hard time writing so I'm doing something different. I have a loose idea of where I'd like to go with this story but I'm mostly just taking it as it comes. Is there any interest in more of this? Clearly, there's a lot of fallout to deal with here. (Sorry about Sara... I love Sara and I don't want her to die but I'm starting to think it's unavoidable in canon so this is sorta my way of dealing with it.)


	2. Always do what you gotta do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity stays with Oliver at the hospital.

“Okay, here’s the hospital,” Dig announced, pulling into the lot and heading right for the ambulance bay.

“Wait, are you sure we can park here?” Felicity asked, eyeing the ambulance in front of them as Dig pulled up to the curb behind it.  

“We have Oliver Queen bleeding out in our backseat.  I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Dig assured her. “Run in and tell them who we have and that you need help.  The Queens have their own wing in this hospital so I imagine the name will be enough to get their attention.  Don’t give too many details just yet, but I’m betting they’ll be out here with a gurney in a flash.”

“Got it,” she said and she bolted out of the car, sending a glance back over her shoulder at Oliver, bleeding in the backseat.  No time to lose. 

The double sliding glass doors opened as she ran at them and just inside, there was a desk manned by a few nurses.  They looked up expectantly as she entered. 

“I’m sorry, miss, you’ll have to go around to the emergency room entrance,” one of them, a middle-aged redhead, began to say. 

“Please!  I’ve got Oliver Queen and he’s been shot and I need help,” she cut in.  She didn’t have to work very hard to get the tremor into her voice.  

That certainly got their attention at least.  The nurse jumped to her feet and gestured at a few orderlies who were passing and they grabbed a gurney and headed for the doors.  “We’ll make an exception in this case,” the nurse said.  She hurried out the doors after the orderlies and Felicity followed behind, feeling rather helpless. 

She watched as Dig stood next to the Bentley and the orderlies pulled Oliver as gingerly as possible from the backseat, laying him on the gurney.  The nurse’s face grew pinched as she watched and barked orders to the orderlies.   Felicity exchanged a look with Dig.  He crossed over next to her and leaned in close to her ear to whisper. 

“I’m going to head back to QC, help Roy with Slade.  You got this?” he asked her. 

She nodded.  “Yeah, I’m not going to let him out of my sight,” she promised. 

Dig climbed back behind the wheel of the Bentley and drove off as the orderlies pushed the gurney back inside the hospital through the sliding doors.  Felicity and the nurse followed until they got to another set of doors and then the nurse turned to look at her. 

“You can’t go in there,” she told her. 

“I have to.  I can’t leave him,” Felicity insisted. 

“Who are you?” 

Even expecting the question, she felt her heart race a little.  “I’m... his girlfriend.  Please, keep it quiet, we haven’t told the press.  Just... I can’t leave him.”  

She tried to look as pathetic as possible even as her heart pounded.  The nurse considered her for a long moment before finally nodding.  “Okay, go on ahead.  They’re taking him to a trauma room, the doctor will meet them there and you’ll find out more.”

Felicity thanked her quickly and hurried after the orderlies and Oliver.  She caught up with them in the trauma room where they were just moving him to a bed and more nurses swarmed in, hooking up leads and cutting his shirt from his body.  Felicity was ushered to a chair in the corner out of the way of the chaos.  She couldn’t hold his hand from where she sat, but she never took her eyes off of him.  He laid so still, she only had the beep of his heart monitor to assure her he was still alive. 

A doctor rushed in with a swirl of white lab coat and blue scrubs and the nurses filled him in quickly on Oliver’s condition while he checked him over quickly.  He turned on Felicity and she half expected him to order her out of the room but instead he just asked her, “What happened to him?”

She swallowed nervously and licked her lips.  Time to try out that story she and Dig had agreed on.  “He was shot by a jealous husband.  Came home a little earlier than expected, I guess.”  She laughed and it sounded thready and high to her own ears.  “There was a window and Oliver fell out after the gunshot and that’s how he broke his leg.  His bodyguard found him and got him in the car to bring him here.  They picked me up on way.”

The doctor looked at her for a moment, eyebrows raised, before turning back to Oliver.  He barked orders at the nurses, requesting x-rays and CT scans and the room was a buzz of activity while his most severe wounds were tended to.  Oliver remained unconscious which was probably for the best because it sounded as though his injuries were extremely painful.  She kept her eyes on his face while they worked on him, cleaning and suturing and bandaging. 

Felicity had to stay behind while he had the scans done and when those were finished, he was moved to another room out of the trauma ward.  A helpful nurse escorted her there, filling her in on Oliver’s condition.  The leg was going to require surgery to place some pins in his ankle, which had taken the brunt of the impact.  The bullet passed through, thankfully, and had only grazed his lung instead of penetrating.  Surgery wasn’t needed and the doctor had been able to suture him up.  His leg was wrapped in a bandage and suspended in a sling, awaiting surgery which would happen in the morning.  

The room was a large private room, exactly the sort of hospital room she would have expected a Queen to be placed in.  Windows looked out on the sparkling lights of Starling City and a convertible chair was next to the bedside.  The decorations were tasteful and understated and immediately forgettable.  Oliver was in a regular hospital bed, still asleep, with his leg suspended from the ceiling.  

Felicity was now allowed to sit next to his bed and hold his hand, which she did long after the room cleared of staff.  She watched Oliver’s face in the dim light of the room.  His face was relaxed now, painkillers easing his rest and seeing him at ease helped put her at ease too.  No one had questioned her being there after the initial inquiry and she was glad for it.  Telling people she was his girlfriend felt... wrong.  She’d always been uncomfortable lying to people.  But sitting here, she knew that’s exactly what this looked like.  If she’d happened upon a scene like this, a woman sitting vigil at a man’s bedside, she would have naturally assumed they were romantically involved.  

Before she left, one of the nurses had shown her how the chair she sat in pulled out to make a makeshift bed.  She’d been given a small, understuffed pillow and a thin blanket and she used them to make herself a bed.  Settling down, she kept her eyes on Oliver as she pulled the blanket up around her chin.  Maybe she could ask Dig to bring her some fresh clothes to change into tomorrow.  Theoretically, Felicity could leave the hospital, but right now she didn’t care for that idea in the slightest.  No, better to stay here and keep an eye on him.  

The night passed relatively uneventfully, considering it was a hospital.  Nurses came in regularly to check his IV and vitals.  Oliver didn’t stir all night and Felicity got a few hours of sleep, interrupted as it was.  She woke when the sun peeked through the blinds, slanting across her face.  Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton balls and she had aches in her neck and shoulders that she’d never had before.  

Felicity got to her feet and stretched, looking to make sure Oliver was still soundly sleeping.  He was, so she ducked into the adjoining bathroom to use the facilities and freshen up as much as she could.  She combed her fingers through her hair before pulling it back into her typical ponytail and smoothed her hands over her now wrinkled blouse. Her makeup had long since worn off, adding to the tired look her eyes held behind her glasses 

Then, she slipped down the hallway looking for a coffee machine or something.  She dug her cell phone out of her pocket and made a call to Dig, letting him know how Oliver was doing and asking him to bring her a change of clothes.  He said he’d be there shortly and assured her that everything with Slade had been taken care of.  Relieved, she hung up with him and located a coffee pot in one of the break rooms and helped herself to a very strong cup flavored with powdered creamer. 

Now she just had Laurel to worry about.  She hadn’t asked the other woman for her discretion last night.  It hadn’t come up and her attention had understandably been on her sister.  She knew it was unlikely either Lance had brought much attention to Sara.  Quentin knew how important it was to keep Sara’s status quiet.  But as it stood, he still didn’t know that Oliver was the Arrow and Felicity hoped that Laurel hadn’t told him, either on purpose or on accident.  She thought about giving the other woman a call but she didn’t have her number handy.  Maybe she could ask Dig when he showed up. 

As she arrived at the door to Oliver’s room, she saw Laurel standing at the foot of his bed.  He was still asleep.  Laurel looked, well, she’d never known the other women have so much as a hair out of place but this morning, she looked like she’d been through a rough time.  She _had_ been through a rough time.  

“Laurel?” she said softly. 

“Oh!  Hi.  You’re here... uhm... I’m sorry, I forgot your name and I forgot to ask last night,” Laurel said, startling a little.  She looked apologetic. 

“That’s okay.  It’s Felicity Smoak.”

“Felicity.  I want to thank you, for last night.  You were very kind to me and you called my dad and he was thankful too and... just, thank you.”

“I just wish I could have done more.  I never felt so helpless in my life.”

“I’m still... processing it,” Laurel admitted.  She shifted, looking uncomfortable.  Her eyes drifted back to Oliver’s sleeping form.  “Uhm, how is he?”

“He’s going to be fine.  He was shot and has a broken leg.  He’ll have surgery here later this morning, on the leg.”

“Oh.  Wow, well, that’s good, right?”

Felicity nodded. “Very good thing.  Uhm, I hate to ask... but what did you tell your dad?  About what happened?”

“Ah.  I told him that I’d found out about Sara earlier in the night and that I followed her to QC.  When I got there, she’d been injured in a fight and died,” Laurel explained.  She looked to Felicity and smiled a little ruefully.  “I didn’t tell him what I know about Oliver.  And I won’t be telling him either.”

“That’s a relief.  I’m sorry, it’s just... keeping Oliver’s secret is a very big deal to him and I know it’ll be something he’ll ask about when he wakes up,” Felicity said.  “Thank you, Laurel.”

“Do you know what happened to that guy?  Slade?”  

“They got him,” Felicity was quick to tell her.  “Oliver and...” She trailed off, not sure whether or not to mention Roy or not.  What all did Laurel know? 

“And his bodyguard?  So he’s... dead?”

She nodded.  “Yes.  I saw him.   He’s taken care of, you don’t have to worry about him anymore.” 

Laurel blew out a relieved breath.  “Good.  I mean, I know its a little crass to hope anyone dead, but...”

“No, I get it. I feel the same way.  He caused a lot of pain for a lot of people.  It’s good to know he won’t hurt anyone ever again,” Felicity reassured her.  Laurel smiled gratefully at her.  

“Thanks.  I don’t know what to tell my dad... “

“I can give him a call,” Felicity suggested.  “He’s used to getting calls from me.”

Laurel nodded.  “That’d be great, thanks.  I know it’d put him at ease knowing he doesn’t have to worry about that guy.  He’s pretty upset about Sara.”

“As he should.  As you both are.”  Felicity acted on impulse and stepped forward to hug the other woman.  She stood stiff for a moment before relaxing and hugging her back.  

“Thanks, Felicity.  Ollie is lucky to have you on his team,” she told her.  She glanced at him again but Oliver showed no signs of waking.  “I’ve got to get going.  Dad and I are going on a little road trip today... we’re going to, erm, bury her.  Together.  Have a little moment, probably.  Say goodbye.”

“That’s a good idea.  I’ll tell Oliver you stopped by,” Felicity promised. 

She walked Laurel to the hospital room door and watched as the other woman walked away down the hall.  That was a relief, not to have to worry about calling her and asking awkward questions over the phone.  Sighing, she returned to Oliver’s bedside and put the chair she’d slept in back into shape again, folding the blanket and setting the pillow on top of it.  She settled into the chair, sipped her coffee, and checked her phone for emails and anything else that might need her attention. 

There wasn’t much point in calling in to work tell them she wouldn’t be in today since her boss was out cold on the hospital bed next to her.  But she did go into Oliver’s office calendar and mark him as out sick for the next week.  Hopefully, Isabel wouldn’t give him too much trouble over the time off.  If she did, Felicity would welcome her to come down and take a look at the bullet hole in Oliver’s chest.  Maybe that would shut the frost queen up. 

***

The first thing Oliver was aware of was the pain in his chest, followed quickly by pain in his leg.  Groaning, he licked at his dry lips and forced his eyes open.  Before he could focus, a small hand slipped into his and squeezed. 

“Shh, Oliver.  It’s just me.  Do you need something?  Pain meds?”  

It was Felicity.  He blinked his eyes a few times and her face swam into focus before him.  Her eyes were wide on his, a wrinkle of concern between her eyebrows. He looked from her and saw enough to confirm that he was in a hospital room.  He tried to remember what had happened last.  He remembered going to meet Slade at QC and then... 

Sara.  

His eyes slid shut as a new pain sliced through him.  She died.  He couldn’t save her and Slade shot her in the head, right there in front of him.  The memories came flooding back to him, overwhelming him with their intensity.  He remembered fighting Slade, how he and Dig struggled to defend themselves against the onslaught.  And then Roy showed up and the tide turned.  He remembered being shot and charging at Slade, only to have the preternaturally strong man crush his leg under his boot when he’d fallen to the ground.  After that, things got a little hazy.  He recalled Roy and Dig both (finally) taking Slade down.  He recalled Felicity arriving at his side, the worried note in her voice that caused a lump to rise in his throat.  After that, things went dim.  

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and he opened his eyes again to see her watching him, her own eyes filling with tears.  

Seeing her tears only made his eyes water even more.  He looked down at where she gripped her hand and tried to regain his control over his emotions.  Sara was gone.  Well and truly gone.  And the part he’d played in that weighed heavily on him.  Lance had just gotten his daughter back, only to lose her all over again...

“What about Lance?” he asked quietly after a minute, when he finally trusted his voice again

“I called him last night and he came to be with Laurel and they... took care of Sara.  And I spoke to Laurel this morning, she didn’t tell him your identity.  She’ll keep it quiet,” Felicity told him.  She pulled her hand from his, as though she just realised she was holding onto him.  His hand felt cold without hers and he felt the loss more keenly than he would have expected to. 

“I should talk to her,” he said, without any real enthusiasm.  Confrontations with Laurel were high on his list of things he didn’t care to take part in, but he knew they needed to talk, and about more than just his identity as the Arrow.  He owed that much to her, because as fractured as their relationship was now, she was still one of his oldest friends and he would like to be able to keep her as a friend.  Plus, she’d just lost her sister all over again.  He needed to pay his respects. 

“I think she’d like that.”  Felicity looked awkward, biting her lower lip and twisting her fingers together.  

“So what’s the news on me?  What’d the doctor say?”

She filled him in on what she knew.  He was pleased that nothing was terribly life threatening but discouraged about his leg.  That was going to be a long recovery, no way around it.  But still, he knew it could have been worse.  It could have been a lot worse. 

“What story did you give them?  I’m thinking you probably didn’t tell them it was a vigilante fight on the roof of Queen Consolidated.”

“Clearly not,” she said, sounding almost offended.  Then, she told him the story that Dig had concocted.  He had to admit it was as good as he would have been able to come up with.  People expected him to act like a creep, he found.  They didn’t tend to investigate too deeply either, when he appeared to fulfill their expectations. 

He turned his attention back to her.  Now that he looked, he noticed that her hair was mussed and she didn’t have any makeup on.  Her blouse was wrinkled and he thought she might have slept in it.  Did she sleep here?  He glanced at the table next to his bedside and saw a folded up blanket and pillow there. 

“Did you stay here last night?” he asked her. 

Felicity’s cheeks pinked.  “I did, yeah.  I hope that’s okay.”  She nibbled on her lower lip a little and he found his eyes drawn to the action.  

She’d spent an uncomfortable night on a foldout hospital chair and she was worried if he would think it was okay?  Sometimes, he really didn’t understand the way this woman thought.  “Felicity, it’s okay.  I just... I’m surprised you’d want to stay here.  All I did was sleep.” 

She shrugged a little and looked away from him, plucking at the edge of his blanket with her fingernails.  “I know.  But I wanted to be here if you woke up.”

That touched him.  “And they let you stay?”

If anything, her blush deepened.  “Well, er... yeah.  But I had to tell them that... I told the nurses that I was... uhm.”

“Spit it out, Felicity.”

“I told them I was your girlfriend.”

She still wasn’t meeting his eye and he found it impossible to read what she might possibly be thinking.  His mouth, as it happened, had gone suspiciously dry.  “Who thought that up?  Was that you?” he asked, meaning to tease and make light of the situation but there was an edge to his voice he hadn’t meant for. 

Her eyes snapped back to his.  “No, that was Dig again.  And he was right.  That’s all I had to say and no one questioned me being here.”

It made sense and he knew that’s why Dig had suggested it.  But it didn’t explain the why.  “Why did you want to stay?”

She looked at him, puzzled, as though he’d just asked her why donuts had holes.  “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” she said as though that explained it all. 

But it didn’t.  Not really.  A simple call to the hospital could have told her his condition.  Or she could have gone home after he was stabilized and resting comfortably.  She didn’t _have_ to stay.  But she had.  He wasn’t sure which was more surprising, the knowledge that she had wanted to, or the realization that he was so very glad she had.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone's lovely response on this story! It's strange taking it as it comes but I'm enjoying finding out where this story is leading me. This one will likely be more relationship-centered than action-centered. Sorry for that!


	3. I want you to stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, at the hospital, Oliver is on the mend and Felicity insists on being there for him.

Dig arrived shortly after Oliver had woken up.  While he caught him up on what had gone on the night before and how they’d taken care of Slade, Felicity took the clothes Dig had brought her and slipped into the bathroom that adjoined Oliver’s room.  There was a shower in there and she took a chance that no nurse would take issue with her using it.   The hot water felt like a miracle and she washed her hair, imagining that all the trauma of the previous day fled down the drain with all the suds.  

She didn’t have a hair dryer handy though, so after her shower she brushed her hair and put it back into a ponytail so at least it’d be out of her face while it air dried.  Dig had included her makeup bag at her request so she put on some mascara and lipstick and instantly felt more human than she had before. 

Dig had brought her fresh underwear (she couldn’t bear the thought of him pawing through her lingerie drawer so she pushed that thought out of her mind entirely), some black trousers and a patterned blouse.  She dressed quickly, not wanting to take more time than needed.  She needed to be there when they came to take Oliver to surgery. 

As soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, Dig and Oliver fell quiet and there was a tension in the room.  Both of them consciously looked away from her and she had the distinct impression they’d either been talking about something they didn’t want her to know (which wasn’t terribly likely, given that they all generally shared knowledge freely with one another) or they were talking about _her._  Which was more likely. 

“Thanks, Dig,” she said, hoping to break the uncomfortable silence.  “I feel better already.”

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, finally meeting her eye and smirking.  “Just don’t ask me to do it again.  I felt like a creeper going through your things.”

Oliver was still purposefully avoiding her eyes and she tried not to wonder too much about it.  Instead, she filled the awkwardness with chatter that Dig returned.  He filled her in on Slade, how he and Roy had disposed of him in the foundry furnaces, wanting to make certain he was dead and not likely to return from the grave.  Again. 

She expected to feel relief on hearing it but there was a niggling sort of unease that settled on her shoulders.  It was nearly as though death was too good for that man.  Remembering the look on Laurel’s face, the look on Oliver’s...  the sounds of Laurel and her father’s sobbing...  the whole result was so frustratingly anti-climactic.  

A nurse, the doctor from last night, and a few orderlies arrived to prep Oliver for surgery and take him away.  The doctor explained to her and Dig that the surgery would take about an hour, two at the most.  They would be installing some pins in his ankle to help the bones heal properly.  After the surgery, he’d be back in this room and provided he didn’t run a fever for the rest of the day and his condition continued to improve, he would be able to go home the next morning.  Felicity was relieved.  They wished Oliver well as the orderlies transferred him to a gurney and wheeled him out of the room. 

“C’mon,” Dig said, his hand at her elbow.  “I’m taking you to breakfast.”

“But...  I want to be here,” she said weakly. 

“I know you do.  And you will be, but you’ll feel much better with a good meal in your stomach.  There’s a great place right across the street, I’ll have you back in no time.”

Felicity relented and followed Dig across the street from the hospital to a greasy spoon diner that he assured her served the best pancakes in all of Starling City. 

They settled into a booth, placed their pancake orders with a waitress named Madge and Felicity got started on her second cup of coffee that day.  This one was much, much better than her first and she nursed it gratefully, letting the warmth of the mug seep into her fingers as she cradled it in her hands.  

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” Dig told her at last.  She sighed and took another sip of her coffee.  She’d been expecting this. 

“I do, though. I’d go mad at home.  And I feel like he’s glad that I’m there.”

Dig made a face.  “Maybe that’s part of the problem,” he muttered. 

“Yeah, that makes sense,” she snarked, setting down her mug.  “What harm does it do if I’m there?  I’m keeping him company.  Would you rather he be alone.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Felicity. I’m just saying...  I want you to be careful _why_ you’re there.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“I’m making perfect sense.”

“Then explain it to me.”

Madge returned then with their pancakes and Dig waited until she’d left the plates and walked back to the kitchen before speaking.  

“He’s a broken man, Felicity.  I don’t want him to break you too,” he said, sounding tired.  

She chewed a bite of pancake.  Dig had been right, they were _very_ good.  She swallowed carefully before speaking.  “Oliver would never hurt me,” she said quietly. 

“I’m not talking physically.”

“Dig... ”

“Look, we both know that you...  erm...  notice him.  You always have,” Dig pointed out.  

Felicity shrugged a shoulder and busied herself with cutting up the rest of her pancake with her knife and fork.  “Of course I do.  I’d have to be _blind_ not to, Dig.”

“You have feelings for him.”

Her hand stilled for a moment before she resumed cutting up the pancake.  Stalling for time, she took a bite, chewed and swallowed.  “So?” she finally said. 

“Felicity, you know what I’m saying here.  You’re my friend. I don’t want to see you get hurt, even if its at the hand of my other friend.  Maybe especially at his hand.” Dig looked decidedly uncomfortable to be bringing this up with her, but she could see the concern shining clearly in his eyes.  

“I don’t think you have to worry,” Felicity sighed, sipping at her coffee. “Oliver doesn’t see me that way.”

He snorted and shoveled a bite of food into his mouth.  He shook his head as he chewed and swallowed.  “And here I thought you were a genius.”

She took exception to that.  “I am!  Dig, seriously.  Am I even remotely anything like Oliver’s type?”

He looked at her, his eyes traveling over her face and then he shrugged.  “Pre-Island?  Probably not.  But then I didn’t know him then.  From what I’ve heard, everyone was his type back then.  Now?  I think that’s harder to call.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m not worried.  He’s a good friend and that’s all.  And _that_ is why I’m at the hospital.  I’m being a good friend.”

“Alright.  I’ll drop it.  Just, don’t forget what I’ve said.”

“I won’t,” she promised. 

They finished the rest of their pancakes, the chatter turning casual and relaxed and Felicity felt better having the focus off of her and Oliver’s non-existent relationship. When they were finished, Dig tossed a few bills on the table amidst her protests that he should let her at least pay her portion and they walked back over to the hospital together.  As they neared Oliver’s room, Felicity felt the pull again and briefly regretted having left in the first place.  What if something had happened during the surgery and she hadn’t been here?  A curious feeling of panic crowded in her throat before she quelled it.  That was silly, of course.  Orthopedic surgery was about as low risk as it got. 

Dig had to get going but made her promise to text him with Oliver’s status as soon as she knew anything.  She promised she would and thanked him for breakfast with a big hug.  She knew he just cared about her and she was glad to have someone care that much at all.  

Felicity settled into the chair next to Oliver’s still-empty bed and began to read through emails and news on her phone, getting caught up on what in the outside world while she waited for Oliver to return.  There was an email from Isabel Rochev, predictably, filled with thinly veiled sarcasm about what Oliver might be doing with her during this “sick leave”.  She rolled her eyes and scrolled past the message.  Maybe later she’d reply but she didn’t feel in the mood to deal with that bitch at the moment. 

Business all taken care of, she opened up the latest addictive game app and distracted herself from both the interminable wait and from the echoing of Dig’s cautions in her mind. 

***

Oliver woke up from his surgery in a recovery alcove.  A nurse was right there, taking his vitals and piling warmed blankets on top of him.  He felt groggy and disoriented, something he never liked to feel these days.  

“Felicity?” he asked, his voice croaking.  The nurse produced a water bottle with a draw, urging him to take a sip.  The cool water felt fantastic on his dry throat.  

“That’s your girlfriend, right?  She’s up in your room, waiting for you.  I’ll have you taken back there just as soon as I get some more vitals from you and can see you’re out of the sedation okay.”

Girlfriend.  He reacted to the word, but not the way he’d expected he would.  In the past, even before the island, he’d always chafed a bit at titles and declarations like that.  How Laurel had put up with him, he had no idea.  Since the island, his views on relationships had changed.  He wasn’t as diametrically opposed as he once was, but with his lifestyle...  it was unwise to get involved.  What happened to McKenna was a prime example of that.  

But there was something about thinking about Felicity as being his girlfriend that felt different.  It was almost like puzzle pieces sliding together.  He felt calm and excited all at once and it was completely strange from how he’d ever felt about a woman before.  

Maybe that was the anesthesia talking. 

Shortly, a pair of orderlies arrived and wheeled his gurney out of the recovery room and into the elevator to return to his room.  And Felicity.  He tried not to think too much about how that made his heart thump in his chest. 

The thumping only intensified when they reached his room and he saw her smiling face, waiting for him.  Waiting.  For _him_.  He told himself not to read too much into it, she was concerned about him and keeping him company.  Nothing more.  But there was no denying that having her here did make him happier.  

Which was why he beamed a smile at her as the orderlies got him settled once again on his hospital bed.  “Felicity,” he breathed, unable to stop smiling now. 

The orderlies chuckled as they left the room.  The nurse smiled indulgently at him and turned to Felicity.  “He’s on a pretty good cocktail of painkillers right now so he might be a little loopy.  In fact, I expect he’ll be falling asleep here shortly.”

“Okay.  Is there anything I need to watch out for?”

“We’ll be checking on him pretty regularly.  Just keep an eye on his pain levels.  If he’s in pain before we come back to give him another dose, just hit the call button.  I’ve got a pitcher of water here and some cups if he gets thirsty,” the nurse was saying.  

“Got it.”

The nurse left and Felicity sat back in her chair.  She leaned forward, taking his hand in hers and he hadn’t realised how much he missed her hand until he had it again.  He smiled again at her.  “You stayed,” he murmured, the words feeling thick on his tongue. 

“I did.  Well, Dig took me to breakfast.  I hadn’t wanted to go, but it was just across the street and they did have really good pancakes and it turns out I was actually pretty hungry, so I’m glad I went.  But I was anxious to get back here just in case you needed me or something and...  yeah.  I’m here now,” she rambled, blushing a little as she caught herself.  That blush was adorable.  

“I’m so happy you’re here,” he told her and he didn’t think his own voice sounded nearly as earnest as he felt. 

She smiled at him then, but it was as though he had something on his face or something.  “You poor thing.  You’re looped up,” she murmured. 

“No, I’m not,” he insisted.  “I’m perfectly straight.”

That made her chuckle and the sound of her laughter soothed him a bit, even if she was laughing at him.  

“Why don’t you just rest?  It’ll help you get your strength back and if you’re doing well by this time tomorrow, they’ll let you go home.  You want to go home, don’t you?” she asked. 

He nodded and was alarmed when the whole room seemed to bob right along with his head.  Wincing, he stopped nodding. 

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he wanted to know as he settled back against the pillows on his bed.  Come to think of it, this bed was very comfortable and the weights that were attached to his limbs were getting heavier and heavier.  His eyelids wanted to sink down as well and he was tired of fighting them. 

Felicity nodded and smiled at him again.  This time, it was a soft smile that made her eyes shine a little in the mid-morning light.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” he breathed but the vowels got stretched out as oblivion rose up to claim him once again. 

***

Felicity hadn’t been prepared for how seeing Oliver be so vulnerable and open would affect her.  As she watched him drop off to sleep almost alarmingly quickly, she wished he could always be so relaxed and free.  So often, the weight of the world was on his shoulders.  He accepted that weight with stoicism and responsibility.  Still, she knew it came at a price.  She knew that it meant he distanced himself from the parts of life that most people were free to enjoy.  He had to distance himself from his friends and family and that had to be so lonely for him.  Her thumb ran over the back of his knuckles.  That was part of why she couldn’t leave him.  Not now and not when he had to face danger. 

Continuing to hold his hand, she reached for the television remote that sat on his bedside table and turned the television on, making sure to keep the volume low so it wouldn’t disturb him.  There wasn’t anything in particular she was interested in watching, but she needed the distraction from the silence and her own thoughts.  

Felicity knew if she sat here much longer, just staring at Oliver’s face, relaxed in sleep, she would drive herself even closer to the edge.  In the months since Oliver had returned from the island the second time, she’d done a pretty good job of keeping her emotions and feelings under control.  

She’d always been at least half in love with Oliver.  Last year, however, it’d been easier to keep those feelings separate.  He was the quintessential unattainable man, after all. Billionaire playboy and CEO and hero by night.  But when he’d come back to Starling City, he’d been a little different.  He’d reacted to her differently than he had before the Undertaking and though she’d tried very hard not to let herself be affected, her feelings for him had grown without her permission.  Finding out he’d slept with Isabel in Moscow had hurt her far worse than she’d expected it would.  She’d tried to cover it with snark and sarcasm but that he’d turned to _her_ for physical comfort had stung.  

It shouldn’t have because it wasn’t any of her business who Oliver slept with.  He was her friend and that was it.  Still, she’d made a fool of herself and had asked him _why_.  And he’d told her it hadn’t meant anything.  It just _happened_.  And that would have been a fine answer and one she’d completely expected.  But then he’d added that he didn’t think, with the life he lead, that he should be with someone he could really care about.  

Something had passed between them in that moment.  She’d felt it just as keenly as if he’d reached across that desk and touched her.  The way his eyes as bored into hers, begging her to understand what he was saying, told her that he wasn’t so much speaking in the abstract but that he’d been talking about _her_.  Wishful thinking on her part, perhaps?  Regardless, that answer had felt like a wedge as much as it had thrilled her with the possible implications.  If he _had_ been talking about her, he’d been trying to put a wall between them and that she shouldn’t try to knock that wall down.  

So she’d done the only thing she could do.  She told him that he deserved better than Isabel Rochev.  As infuriating a man as Oliver could be, she believed that with her whole heart.  He was a good man, regardless of how he saw himself.  She knew he blamed himself for so much more than he was actually responsible for.   She also knew that he hated himself more than just a little bit.  And if she could do no more for him as his friend, she wanted him to know that he was better than he saw himself and that he deserved to be happy as much as anyone else.  

But since that whole scene, Felicity’s resolve against falling for Oliver had steadily been crumbling.  It hadn’t been long after that that Oliver had rescued her from the Count.  He’d _killed_ for her, despite his vow to stop killing.  She’d expected he would have drawn back, guilty with what he’d done in the heat of the moment but then he’d told her he’d had no choice.  How could she hear that and not fall for him?  

Then Barry had arrived and he’d asked not once, but twice about her feelings for Oliver.  She’d tried to play it off but Barry was a smart guy and he’d clearly seen through her.  She’d wished she could fall for a guy like Barry, someone who understood her and who was perfect for her and not completely unattainable.  He’d told her he’d like to date her and she’d been so tempted to take him up on it.  But then Barry had his accident and dating had taken a backseat to the real issues of his near death experience.  Felicity had gone to see him when he was in the hospital, something which had bothered Oliver quite a bit at the time.  

What did that reaction mean?  Didn’t friends visit each other in the hospital?  Isn’t that what she was doing right now?  She still couldn’t understand why Oliver would begrudge her or Barry that.  He’d claimed it was because he’d needed her back in Starling City and in the foundry but how could that be all it was?  The niggling voice in her head had tried to insist that it was because he was jealous, that he had feelings for her too.  

Which was just absurd. 

So Felicity tried to absorb herself into the daytime talk show that was playing on the television. Indulging in thoughts like this would do her absolutely no good in the long run.  There was no point in seeing something there where there was nothing at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone reading. I'm trying to write as much as I can on this. I think I've dealt with enough setup here, that we can start getting into the meat of the story. :)


	4. You're one of a kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity spend a day at the hospital together and Felicity learns what a rotten patient Oliver Queen really is.

Oliver figured he’d slept for a good four hours after surgery.  When he woke, he noticed the sound of women’s voices in the room.  Familiar women’s voices.  He pressed the button at the side of his bed so he could sit up and that’s when he noticed his mother and sister standing next to the end of the bed, talking to Felicity.  They were discussing his condition.  

Then, Thea noticed he was awake and squealed and promptly assaulted him with hugs and kisses all over his face.  He pretended he didn’t love every minute of it.  It was good to see his family, even if they believed he was in here because he’d slept with a married woman.  

Felicity excused herself for a while so they could visit together in private.  He wanted to tell her to stay, but wasn’t sure how to say it without embarrassing her.  His mother and sister didn’t stay very long, just long enough to exchange some pleasantries.  They left him with a vase of cheerful flowers which they placed near the windows. He dozed off after that. 

When he woke again, Felicity was again sitting by his side.  Some nature program was playing on the television set but she was reading a paperback novel.  He reached out for her, brushing her shoulder with his fingers, making her jump a little. 

“Oliver!  You’re awake!”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he said, his voice a little slurred.  She grinned at him as she got to her feet.  

“Can I get you anything?  Water?  The nurse said you could have some jello when you woke up if you were hungry and there’s apparently a whole bunch of it in the break room down the hall.  I hope you like cherry though, because that’s the only flavor they have.  I checked.”

“Water would be great,” he told her.  She grabbed a cup and the pitcher of water on his side-table, pouring it full and sticking a straw in before handing it to him. 

“No jello?” 

“Not right now, thanks.”  Oliver had to hide a smile at her fussing over him.  Even now, she was checking to see if his pillows were in place and if the blanket was pulled up.  He shouldn’t take as much joy from it as he did, but it was a side to Felicity he didn’t get to see very often.  After all, the times in the foundry where she’d patched him up, she’d always seemed very efficient and detached.  

She changed the channel on the television and found a movie for them to watch.  It was something he hadn’t seen before and Felicity had a hard time wrapping her mind around that.  “Never?  You haven’t seen ‘The Avengers’?  Like, at all?”  She gaped at him as though she were a fish out of water. 

“Felicity, I was on an island for five years.  They didn’t exactly have a cineplex there.”

“Well, you _have_ to watch this.  I can’t let you go another day without having seen it.  It’s _that_ important.”

As the film began, Felicity explained some of what was going on to him, which was a good thing because Oliver wasn’t terribly familiar with superheroes or the movies that had come before this one.  Plus, he enjoyed her descriptions of the characters and what was happening between them.  She had him laughing before the title card even came on screen, which caused the sutures in his chest to pull a little painfully.  Which then caused Felicity to get upset and reach for his nurse call button to request more painkillers for him.  He was about to protest and tell her that it was okay, but she was leaning over him, checking his bandage and touching his face and arranging his blankets and she smelled _really good_ for someone who had spent the night in a hospital chair.  

The movie was actually really good and it got him interested in watching some of the other movies.  Felicity insisted the ‘Iron Man’ movies were at the top of the list and that ‘Thor’ was vastly underrated and ‘Captain America’ was her least favorite of the bunch but he may as well watch it too if he was watching the rest.  

“How about you watch them with me?” he suggested suddenly. 

She paused in her rambling to look at him.  “Really?  You really want to watch them?” 

Oliver was tempted to say that what he really wanted was to watch them with _her_.  Instead, he said, “Yes, I do.  You’ll have to bring them over to the mansion.  I figure I’ve got quite the recovery time ahead of me and I’m sure I’ll be bored out of my mind.”

She smiled at him.  “Sure.  I’d like that.” 

After the movie was over, dinner was delivered.  He was excited to have something to eat until he saw what was on the platter.  It was a bowl of broth, some jello, a plastic mug of weak tea and a crumbled package of saltine crackers.  

“This is my dinner?” he asked incredulously.  The hospital worker quickly backed out of the room and Felicity chuckled. 

“Yes, and you need to eat it up if you want to get sprung from this joint,” she told him. 

“What about you?  What are you having?”

“I was thinking I’d run down to the cafeteria and grab a sandwich.  Or maybe next door to the burger joint and get something there.” 

His stomach rumbled at the mention of burgers and he very nearly moaned out loud.  “Can’t I have a burger instead?  I’ll give you some money, you can grab me some too while you’re there?” 

Felicity just tsked at him.  “You have to eat what they’ve brought you.  The nurses will be checking!”

“But Felicity, this is _broth_.  I can’t eat broth!”

“You can and you will.  Now stop whining and eat.”

Oliver fought the urge to pout.  He eyed the broth doubtfully.  There wasn’t even a salt packet with which to make it more palatable. 

“It’s not going to taste any better cold,” she warned him. 

She had a point.  He took a taste of the bland liquid and shuddered.  Felicity chuckled fondly at him, her dark blue eyes twinkling at him from behind her glasses.  She leaned over again, this time ripping open the package of crackers and dumping the contents into the bowl of broth.  

“There.  Tell you what.  If you can eat all of that, I’ll bring you back a burger when I go get mine,” she told him. 

He grinned widely at her and took an enthusiastic spoonful of broth.  She just smiled and shook her head.  While she checked some more emails and such on her phone, he worked through the terrible meal, reminding himself with every bite that his reward would be a juicy hamburger.  Somehow, he was able to finish it all off, even the horrible tea which was easily the worst thing he’d ever had to drink and he’d had to drink some awful things when he was on Lian Yu.  When he was done, he proudly displayed his tray to Felicity. 

“Very good!” she praised him, lifting the tray to the side table so it was out of his way.  “Alright, you earned yourself a burger.”

“And a soda?” he added, hopefully. 

“Sure, I’ll get you a soda too.  You’ll be fine here while I’m gone?”

It was a flippant question and of course he would be just fine but it struck him just then that he would miss her while she was gone.  He just didn’t feel ready for her to be gone from his sight.  Still, he pasted on a smile.  “Sure will,” he assured her.  

Felicity gathered her purse and walked out of his hospital room with a swish of her hips.  He sighed and leaned his head back on the pillows of his elevated bed.  What was he doing?  He already needed her in his life far more than was probably safe or healthy for either of them and here he was just encouraging it even more.  He recalled the warning Dig had given him this morning to be careful where Felicity was concerned.  At the time he’d thought maybe his friend was overreacting to the situation but now, he wasn’t so sure. 

***

She returned with burgers and sodas in hand as quickly as she could, excited to see how pleased he would be to have the burger in hand.  Oliver didn’t disappoint her.  His face lit up when she entered his room, peering around here to make sure the nurses didn’t notice her smuggling in the slightly greasy bag and drink holder.  

“You are a lifesaver, Felicity Smoak,” he declared, reaching out to take the bag from her.  She set the drink holder on the side table and positioned it so it reached over his lap.  Then she pulled up her chair while he pulled the burgers out and set them on napkins.  

His praise for her only increased in both volume and effusiveness until she was struggling to hide a blush.  She busied herself with eating her own burger and tried to ignore the almost lewd noises coming from him as he ate his own.  

Felicity would have thought his good mood would have extended towards the hospital staff, but instead, he was downright unpleasant anytime a nurse would come in to take his vitals or administer pain meds.  He complained and was difficult and argumentative and more than once Felicity found her eyes meeting some poor nurse’s over Oliver’s head and she’d try to smile as apologetically as possible.  Then, when the nurse would scuttle out of the room, she’d glare at Oliver and tell him to behave.  

The last time, he affected an air of innocence.  “Why are you glaring at me?”

“Would it kill you to just work with the nurses?  They’re just trying to do their job.”

Oliver sighed dramatically, putting her to mind of a seven year old child.  “But I don’t want to be stuck here anymore.  I’m tired of blood pressure readings and why do they even need to take my temperature anyhow?”

“To make sure you don’t have a fever, that you haven’t developed an infection!  Honestly, Oliver.  If you want out of here so badly, you think you’d work with them so they’ll be more inclined to release you in the morning.”

“Don’t you think they’d be more eager to let me go if I’m a pain in the ass?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her in challenge. 

Felicity leveled a bland look at him.  “Have you ever heard the phrase ‘you’ll catch more flies with honey than with vinegar’?”

Oliver wrinkled his nose.  “No.  Why would I want to catch flies?”

She threw up her hands.  “You are the most impossible man.”

“And yet you still stay here with me,” he pointed out.  She stilled at that and he seemed to notice.  His eyes slid over to her.  “Why do you stay here with me?”

She shrugged and hoped that the gesture looked casual. “You asked me to.”

“I didn’t ask you to last night,” he pointed out.  “I was unconscious.”

“I asked myself to.”  Felicity sniffed and took a sip of her soda.  “I don’t know, Oliver.  It just felt like the right thing to do.”

There was silence for a moment and she began to feel uncomfortable.  “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” he replied quickly.  “No, it’s nice having you here.  It keeps my mind off...  things.” 

She knew he meant Sara.  From the pained look that crossed his features, she knew that had to be it and she also knew he was going to have to deal with what happened before long.  But that could wait until he was comfortable at home and not trapped here in this hospital.  He was right, she was here to keep him company and distract him.  

They watched another movie, this time it was “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” and it was one Oliver _had_ seen, of course, but it’d been so long since either of them had that it was almost like watching it for the first time.  

“It doesn’t translate to the twenty-first century very well, does it?” Oliver remarked as they neared the end. 

“No, it really doesn’t,” she agreed.  

They both laughed and she found herself wishing they had a bowl of popcorn to share between them while they watched.  She’d have to remember it for when they began their superhero movie marathon.  She still couldn’t believe he actually wanted to do that, but he’d definitely seemed interested earlier.  Maybe he’d change his mind once he was sprung from the hospital. 

By the time the film was over, Oliver’s eyes were getting tired and droopy and she felt pretty tired herself.  A nurse came in to give him his pain meds for the night and while she did that, Felicity used the bathroom, brushed her teeth and got her fold out chair ready to sleep on.  Hopefully, this would be the last night.  She missed her bed tremendously.  

The nurse left and she settled down on the makeshift bed, fluffing the pillow under her head and then removing her glasses and setting them on the table next to Oliver’s bed.  He turned onto his side, grunting a little as the bandage on his chest pulled and his wrapped leg protested the movement.  His eyes were apologetic.  

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.  

She smiled a little as she reached up to flick off the lamp, plunging the room into mostly darkness.  She’d left the bathroom light on and the door cracked so there was a little light to see by, not that she could make out much without her glasses on.  

“Don’t be sorry,” she told him.  “My choice, remember?”

“Remind me to make this up to you later.”

“I’ll do that.”

***

The next morning, Felicity woke up to the sounds of Oliver arguing with yet another nurse.  Rolling her eyes, she got up from the cursed chair and padded on stocking feet into the bathroom to use the facilities and freshen up.  She’d already promised herself that if Oliver was released today, she would save her shower for when she got home to her apartment.  She brushed her hair with the brush Dig had brought yesterday and put it back in another ponytail.  A couple of swipes of mascara and a slash of bright pink lipstick later and she felt a little more human.  She’d change her outfit later, when she was certain Oliver was going to be released. 

When she exited the bathroom, Oliver was sitting up in bed, looking harassed. 

“So what did the nurse say?” she asked. 

“They’re bringing the release papers.”  He looked as though he’d just sucked on a lemon.  

“That’s good, right?  So why the face?” Felicity gestured towards him.  

“Apparently that was the head nurse.  She gave me a lecture on being rude to her team.”

She couldn’t help it.  Doubling over, she laughed so hard she thought she might have pulled something in her side.  Didn’t matter, it was worth it. 

When she’d straightened again, wiping at her eyes and chuckling, she caught Oliver looking at her with a peculiar expression.  She’d been expecting exasperation, but this was something else.  Before she could ask him about it, however, a nurse strode into the room and handed him a sheaf of papers to read through and sign.  Felicity stood at his side, looking over the papers as he went through them and listening to the nurse’s discharge instructions carefully.  She knew he wasn’t paying very much attention and someone had to know how often his bandages needed to be changed or how to deal with wrapping and unwrapping his leg and all of that.  Luckily, it was all written down in the discharge papers.  

Oliver was focused on signing the papers and she knew he was anxious to get out of that hospital room. She sent a quick text to Dig to see if he was picking them up or if someone else.  He replied right away, saying the Bentley was already waiting downstairs for them.  So she busied herself with making sure everything they had with them was packed up and nothing was going to be left behind.  

He finished with the paperwork and an orderly appeared with a wheelchair.  Oliver groaned when he saw it.  “No way,” he said.  

The nurse pursed her lips at him.  “Hospital policy,” she informed him.  “We’ll send you home with a pair of crutches but in the hospital, we have to insist on the wheelchair.  And when you’re home, you should do whatever you can to stay _off_ your feet.”

“Whatever you say, Nurse Ratched,” he grumbled.  Felicity fought to keep the smile off her face as the orderly helped Oliver out of bed and into the wheelchair.  She was glad he had it, judging by the grey pallor his skin had taken on in the process of getting into the chair. 

Dig was waiting by the curb just as he’d promised and he smiled as they exited the sliding glass doors of the hospital. His smile deepened as he saw Oliver sitting in the wheelchair, scowl on his face. Between Dig and the orderly, they got Oliver situated in the backseat of the Bentley while Felicity stowed their bags in the trunk and got in the other side of the car. 

Oliver sought her hand as soon as she climbed in and refused to let go of it.  Dig slid behind the wheel and sighed.  “Where to?  Queen mansion?” he asked. 

“Can you drop me by my apartment on the way?”  Her shower was beckoning and a proper nap in her actual bed would be welcoming as well. 

“You’re not coming to the mansion?” Oliver squeezed her hand and looked at her with a crease between his eyes. 

“I’m sure you’re sick of me and I don’t want to get in the way.  Your sister and mom will probably be fawning all over you, you’ll hardly be alone,” she pointed out. 

He continued to pout, however.  For the rest of the ride, he glared out the side window and Felicity was a little surprised.  She would have thought he would have been so happy to be released from the hospital that there would have been no room for sulking.  Instead, he seemed the crankiest he’d been the last few days.   She couldn’t believe that it was because she was going home to her apartment, so she reasoned it must be something else weighing on his mind.  Maybe it was Sara.  

When Dig pulled the car up in front of her apartment building, she squeezed his hand and turned to Oliver.  “I’m just a phone call away, okay?  Give me a call if you get bored or if you need to talk or anything.”

His eyes skated over her face and he sighed. “Okay.  You’ll come by and see me?” 

“Of course.  Besides, I’ll be bringing you all kinds of QC work, I’m sure.  You can’t get rid of me, Mister.”

That made him smile.  He squeezed her hand one last time and then let it go.  She made her goodbyes to both him and Dig and took her bag from Dig’s hand before entering the lobby of her building.  She checked her mailbox before heading to the elevator and taking it up to the fourth floor where her apartment was. 

Felicity let herself in and breathed a sigh of relief.  The old place looked great after a few days away and after making sure her houseplants that lined the bay window in her living room were watered, she made a beeline to the bathroom for that shower she’d promised herself. 

The rest of the day passed pretty quietly, but she was used to that on Sundays.  That was her day for catching up on her DVR and sitting around in comfortable sweats and eating comfort food.  She wondered how Oliver was doing but every time she checked her phone, there were no messages or missed calls so he must be doing just fine. It didn’t stop her thinking about him, though.  

After the sun went down, she found herself growing quickly tired.  She fixed herself a quick salad for dinner and then got ready for bed.  She was just slipping between the sheets and groaning at the fantastic feel of laying in an actual bed when her cell phone rang from the table next to her bed.  She sat up and grabbed it, seeing the number of the Queen mansion on the caller ID.  Felicity answered it without hesitation. 

“Hello?” she said. 

“Felicity?  Thank god you’re not asleep,” a familiar voice gushed. 

“Thea?  What’s going on?”

“It’s Oliver, of course.  He’s been a total pain all day and right now he’s very upset but he won’t talk to us and I can’t get him to take his pain meds so he can go to bed.  Mom suggested he might listen to you.  Do you mind coming over?”

Her heart panged.  Oh, Oliver.  She checked the time on her alarm.  “It’s pretty late,” she said, knowing it was just a stall and she was already mentally preparing to throw on a pair of jeans and head over.  

“You can take one of our spare rooms here for the night.  Please, Felicity?  I know he’d never admit it but he needs you.  You kept him so calm at the hospital.”

There was nothing for it.  She’d have to go.  There was no way she could go to sleep here now, not thinking about Oliver upset and probably in pain across town.  Not if she could help.  

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to everyone who has been reading this! I'd love to hear from you what you think about this story. I'm having a bit of fun for now, but the angst is coming, I fear. Don't worry, I'll make it okay in the end. ;)


	5. You're made of strength and mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity helps Oliver when he won't let anyone else and helps him come to terms with what happened to Sara.

Felicity was pulling her red Mini around the end of the driveway at the Queen mansion within thirty minutes.  The porch was lit up, welcoming her, and she hurried up the steps and rapped on the enormous wooden door.  It was yanked open a moment later and instead of a maid or a butler or something, it was Thea on the other side of the door.  Her face broke out into a relieved grin when she saw her.

“Thank god you’re here!” she gasped, grabbing Felicity’s hand and pulling her into the foyer.  

“What’s going on?”

“He’s been a miserable bastard since he got home today,” Thea confided as she lead her up the staircase. 

“That’s no surprise.  He was pretty sullen in the car when Dig picked us up from the hospital.”

“Yeah, but when he got here, he just got worse and worse.  Shut himself in his room, would gripe at us if we came in to see how he was doing and to see if he was taking his medications.  I brought him his dinner and that was when I noticed he wasn’t just being crabby anymore.  He was sitting by the windows, staring out and he had the worst look on his face.  He didn’t even acknowledge I was there and when I came back later, he hadn’t touched his food or even moved.”  Thea paused and turned to look at Felicity.  Her eyes were shining and she bit her lip.  “I’m really worried.  You kept him going in the hospital and I thought maybe you could reach him?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to,” Felicity said uncertainly.  “I mean, I’m not anything special or anything... ”

Thea grabbed her hand again and dragged her down the corridor.  “Don’t be silly.  Oliver trusts you and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he doesn’t trust many people since he’s been back from the island.”

“If I can help him, I’ll be happy to try.”

They arrived outside Oliver’s room and Thea knocked softly on the door.  “Ollie?  Someone’s here to see you.”

There was no answer.  Felicity nibbled her lip nervously. 

“Okay, we’re coming in!” Thea called out.  Then, under her breath she muttered, “I hope you’re decent.  I don’t need that kind of therapy.”

She twisted the doorknob and pushed into his room.  Felicity looked around her as she followed Thea.  She’d never seen Oliver’s room before and while she’d admittedly been curious, she couldn’t have imagined this level of opulence.  The walls were paneled with rich looking carved wood, a fireplace bigger than her bed dominated one of the walls and the wood floors were covered with plush, expensive looking rugs.  She noticed his bed, an enormous four poster piled with blankets and pillows and quickly looked away.  

That’s when she saw Oliver sitting in a chair by a bay of windows, staring out over the darkened grounds.  A tray of food sat untouched on the floor next to him.  He didn’t appear to notice they were there, but Felicity knew better.  Nothing got past Oliver.  

“Felicity is here,” Thea said gently as she crossed to her brother and kneeled to retrieve the tray.  “I’m going to go take this back to the kitchen and I’m going to come back with some fresh food.  This time, I expect you to eat.  Okay?”

Oliver didn’t answer and Thea sent Felicity a chagrined grimace as she left the room.  When they were alone, Felicity walked over to where Oliver sat and knelt next to him.  She placed her hand over his where it rested on the arm of the chair.  

As soon as she made contact, he turned his head and his eyes met hers.  She had to bite back a gasp at the torrent of emotions she saw swimming in those familiar blue eyes.  He was in pain, physically for sure, but also emotionally and her heart broke for him.  Without thinking, she reached up to place the palm of her other hand against his cheek. 

“It’s okay, I’m here,” she murmured.  

“Thank you,” he whispered.  

“Let me just get a chair real quick, okay?”  He gave her the barest of nods and she got back to her feet.  There was a chair over by a bookcase and she drug it over so it was facing Oliver and she sat down, leaning forward.  She gestured for his hand and he mirrored her position, leaning forward to place his hand in hers.  

“Tell me.”

Oliver was quiet for a while, just looking at where their hands were joined and she began to think he might not talk at all.  But then, with a sigh, he started to talk. 

“Did I ever tell you why I brought Sara with me on the Queen’s Gambit?” he asked her.  His eyes slid away from their hands, looking back out the window but she could read the tension in the set of his shoulders. 

“No.  Why don’t you tell me now?”  Felicity knew this had to be painful for him, but she also knew that talking about the pain helped with healing. Her mom used to tell her the same thing when kids at school would bully her.  She’d always been right. 

“I was dating Laurel, of course.  We were one of those on-again-off-again couples and we were on again.  Things were going great, she was going to school and studying for the LSAT and I was working on getting kicked out of another university.  But we were getting older and Laurel was maturing and I just...  wasn’t.  I was still a selfish boy then.  Our friends who were couples were moving in together, getting married.  She thought that’s what we should be doing.  The very thought of it scared the crap out of me,” he admitted.  

“Sara had been flirting with me for a few months.  I knew she was just doing it because she wanted to get a rise out of Laurel and out of her parents.  She said she loved me but I knew it was just another one of her rebellions.  But I was feeling a bit rebellious too.  So when I heard my dad was taking the Gambit out, I invited myself along and I invited Sara too.  She jumped at the chance and I lied right to Laurel’s face when I said goodbye to her.  I thought I was getting away with something but in truth, I think I kind of wanted to get caught.”

He paused and she squeezed his hand to let him know she was still listening.  “The thing is, Sara and I had a good time together just as friends.  We should have stayed friends but I never knew how to be just a friend with a woman.  So, of course, I slept with her.  That’s just what I always did.  But my best memories from that trip before everything went belly up was the time we spent just hanging out, joking around.  She could have been one of my best friends and I treated her just like she was another piece of ass.

“When the boat went down, I had no idea that the whole thing was staged by Merlyn.  I just thought it was bad weather.  And I thought Sara had died and all I could think about, those weeks on the raft with my dad and his aide, was the look of terror on her face when the boat broke in two and she was sucked into the water.  That was my fault and, _shit_ , I’d never known guilt like that before.  It damn near ate me alive.  You know, that was probably the first time I’d ever had to really deal with the ramifications of my shitty decisions?  Talk about baptism by fire.  

“Anyhow.  I brought her along because I was running and I wanted someone to run with me.  I recognised she wanted to run too so I knew it’d be easy for me.  I also knew that she wouldn’t expect the same things that Laurel did.  I was a coward; a selfish, dickish asshole.”

Oliver stopped talking and drew in a ragged breath.  Felicity inched her chair forward so her knees brushed his and she touched his face again, stroking her fingers along the stubble of his cheek, waiting for him to continue.  He breathed for a few minutes, his eyes closed and she could see sweat glistening on his brow in the low light of the room’s lamps and from the moonlight shining through the windows.  She hoped Thea would bring his pain meds when she returned with food; he looked as though he was long overdue for a dose. 

“What she became, after the Gambit went down... that was because of me and because of my being a coward. If I could take it all back and have her here safe and sound and with her family like she should be, I would.  In a heartbeat.”  His voice cracked there at the end and Felicity was up off her chair before she knew it.  She reached for him at the same time as he reached for her and a moment later she was in his lap with her arms wrapped around him.  His forehead pressed into her shoulder and she could feel him shuddering.   She continued to hold him until his breathing evened back out and then she just stroked his back soothingly.  

They were interrupted by a soft rapping on the door.  Suddenly aware of their position, Felicity released Oliver and got back to her feet, smoothing her shirt as she fought to hide her blush.  “I’ll just get the tray from Thea,” she said, gesturing towards the door.  Oliver nodded and looked back out the window.  

She hurried across the room and opened the door.  Thea held the tray and Felicity took it from her.  “Any luck?” she asked. 

“I’ve got him talking, if that’s what you mean.”  She looked over the tray, taking note of the sandwich and fruit and bag of chips.  There were a couple mugs of tea and some cookies as well.  “When did he have his meds last?”

Thea shrugged and looked past Felicity at her brother, a worried expression creasing her forehead.  “I don’t know.  I don’t think he’s had any since he got home from the hospital.”

Felicity nodded grimly.  “Alright.  Are the bottles in his bathroom?”

His sister nodded.  

“I’ll make sure he gets some and gets some rest too.  You mentioned there was a guest room I could use?”

“Oh!  Yes.  Right across the hall,” Thea told her, stepping back and gesturing to the door across the hall behind her. 

“Great, thanks.  Hey, could I borrow some clothes?  I need to go into the office tomorrow morning and it’s probably best I don’t show up in day old jeans,” she said. 

Thea chuckled.  “Yeah, sure thing.  I’ll pick out something classy and set it in there for you.  We look to be about the same size.” 

“Thanks, Thea.”

“No, thank _you_.  Mom and I were really getting worried about him.  I’m just glad he’ll talk to you,” Thea gushed.  Felicity felt her cheeks go pink. 

“Anything I can do to help Oliver, I’ll do,” she said with a helpless shrug.  Thea smiled at her then, something speculative lurking in her eyes. Then she reached out and impulsively hugged her.  

“G’night!” With a cheerful wave, Thea was off, sashaying down the hallway.  

Felicity blinked a few times and then shut the door.  She carried the tray over to Oliver and handed it to him.  He held it a little awkwardly while she pulled a small table over next to the chair he was sitting in and then she took the tray back and set it down on the table.  

“Now, eat up,” she instructed him as she turned and headed towards his bathroom.  “I’m going to get your pain meds and you’re going to take them.”

She found them easily enough.  They were still in the paper sack they’d come in and sat on the counter, neglected.  Sighing, she picked them up and read the dosage instructions carefully.  Making a note of the time on her watch, she shook out the pills from each bottle into her hand and filled a glass next to the sink with water and carried it back to him.  

She set the pills next to his plate and handed him the glass of water.  “Take these now, before you forget.”

“You’re worse than my mother,” he mumbled as he popped the pills in his mouth. 

“I wouldn’t have to be if you had just taken your meds like you were supposed to hours ago,” she pointed out. 

Oliver grimaced as he swallowed the pills but he didn’t argue with her.  She chatted with him while he ate his sandwich, taking sips of one of the cups of tea which she assumed had been provided for her.  The chocolate cookies were amazing and she vowed to find out where they had come from.  Felicity kept the conversation light but she watched as he ate, making sure that he ate everything.  He would need his strength to recuperate properly and it would be easier to deal with his other demons if he wasn’t battling an empty stomach as well. 

When he was finished and was sipping his tea, she spoke.  “I’m sorry about Sara.  But I hate to hear that you would wish away everything.  I don’t think Sara would do the same thing and I don’t think she would want you to, either,” she told him. 

“Felicity,” he said, his voice a warning. 

“No, you’re going to hear me out.  I don’t know everything that you went through on that island and I will never pressure you to tell me.  If you want me to know, you’ll tell me.  You told me about Sara and I’m really glad you did.  I really liked Sara.  She, well, she reminded me of you, actually.  You both have done things you are ashamed of but you both had come through it.  Sometimes I wonder if you realise that you’re not on that island anymore.  You’re not the man you were even just last year.  What happened to you both is horrible and I ache for the pain her family is going through right now, but she found something that mattered to her in all of it.  Some people _never_ find that.  But she did and so did you.  Doesn’t that count for something?” 

Oliver stared at her, his eyes wide and searching.    He didn’t say anything, but his lips parted as he stared at her.  Felicity began to flush under his scrutiny. 

“What?” she asked, starting to feel self conscious. 

“I never noticed it before,” he said, so quiet she almost didn’t hear him. 

“Noticed what?”

“You,” he breathed and she felt her heart thud in response.  “I mean, I noticed you, but I never thought about it that way and...  how do you do that?”

“Do what?” 

“You see me like no one else does.  You almost make me believe it.”  Oliver’s eyes were suspiciously moist and she could feel herself tearing up automatically.  

“I see you this way because I know you.  The _real_ you.  The one you hide from everyone else, including your family,” Felicity pointed out. 

“They won’t understand.  They all expect me to be the Oliver that left here and was shipwrecked,” he said, sounding pained. 

“But that’s not who you are.  If you gave them a chance, maybe they would understand.”

“I’m scared, Felicity.  What if they reject me?” 

She had to stop for a moment and just breathe, squeezing his hand in hers and struggling to keep from pulling him into a hug.  This man, a brilliant, heroic man who did _great_ things because his heart was just that big...  he was scared.  And it just about killed her to hear him admit it.  On the other hand, she was humbled and amazed that he was sharing this with her.  This went far beyond anything they’d shared before and coupled with the intimacy between them the last few days, Felicity was nearly overwhelmed.  

“If they love you, they won’t,” she promised quietly. 

For a minute, all he did was look at her and she’d never seen this expression on his face before.  She’d seen something close a couple times, when there’d been a moment here and there in the foundry and she’d wondered if maybe there was something between them.  But never this naked emotion.  She fought a shudder and failed.  Oliver noticed and she saw his eyes darken noticeably.  

“I should get to bed,” she said, getting to her feet, suddenly needing the distance.  “I’m planning to go into the office tomorrow and its pretty late.  Are you going to be okay?  Want me to help you to your bed?”  His pain killers had to be kicking in pretty soon and she didn’t want him to be stranded in that chair.  His crutches were clear across the room and there wasn’t a wheelchair in sight. 

Oliver appeared to take a moment and then he looked up at her, a sheepish expression in place.  “Would you mind?  Actually, if you could get me my crutches, I should probably hop into the bathroom first.” 

Smiling, she retrieved them for him and helped him out of the chair.  She shadowed him as he hobbled into the bathroom, closing the door awkwardly behind him.  She decided to wait for him, wanting to make sure he was settled fine before she went to the guest room.  While she waited, she turned down the sheets on his bed, running her hand over the soft satin smoothness of his expensive high-thread-count sheets.  An image flashed through her mind, of laying between those sheets and feeling them against her bare skin; bare skin which was growing heated and damp with sweat as Oliver hovered over her, covering her with kisses and nibbles and licks...  

Felicity stepped back from the bed hastily, reaching up to push her glasses back on her nose and struggling to regain herself.  The bathroom door opened a moment later and she hurried over to him all the while averting her eyes, worrying he’d see something something if he looked.  But she noticed that he wore a pair of sweatpants low on his hips and no shirt.  She was hardly unfamiliar with a shirtless Oliver, but in this setting all those muscles and bare skin seemed so much more overwhelming than they ever had before.  Felicity tried to keep her eyes on his face. 

“Alright?” she asked, holding a hand out to steady his elbow as he awkwardly maneuvered out of the bathroom on the crutches. 

He nodded and she could tell just looking at his face that he was exhausted.  “Just need to get to bed,” he muttered, his voice rough and strained.  

“Here, let me help,” she insisted.  She tugged one of the crutches away from under his arm and positioned herself there instead.  “Lean on me a bit.”

“Felicity... ” he began but he trailed off.  They took a few experimental steps together and she felt him sag against her side.  He was heavy, like a ton of bricks, but she found if she kept moving that he did as well as the momentum worked in their favor. 

His room was enormous and it seemed to take forever to make it to the side of his bed.  Finally, they reached the edge and Felicity maneuvered around so that he could sit.  He sighed with relief and she helped him scoot back and get his legs up on the bed.  His teeth were gritted as he lay back against the pillows.  

“Would you like a pillow for your leg?” she asked.  He nodded and she grabbed one of the no fewer than a dozen pillows off his bed and positioned it underneath his bandaged leg. “Is that better.”

Oliver nodded and Felicity got to her feet and stood next to the bed.  He reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it.  “Thank you.”

“Glad I could help,” she told him honestly.  “I’ll be just across the hall.  I’ll leave your door cracked open and I’ll leave mine as well.  If you need something, just holler, okay?”

“I think I’m going to sleep for a million years,” he replied. 

“Me too.”  She was nearly overcome with the urge to lean down and kiss his forehead.  She bit her lip and stepped back, releasing his hand.  “See you in the morning.”

He mumbled something in response and she couldn’t quite make it out.  His eyelids finally closed and she could see him relax against the bedding.  

Quietly, she snuck out of his room, leaving the door ajar.  The guest room that Thea had pointed out wasn’t quite as large as Oliver’s but no less richly appointed.  If she hadn’t been so bone weary, she might have explored a little.  There was an attached bathroom like Oliver had, but she noticed it was smaller and the shower was less extravagant and there was no jetted soaking tub.  But there was shampoo and other toiletries set out on the counter and she availed herself of them as she brushed her teeth and washed her face.  

Back in the room, she stripped out of her clothes and folded them up, setting them on top of the dresser.  Removing her cell phone from her jeans pocket, she set that on the bedside table.  She saw Thea had dropped off a dress for her.  It was still on the hanger, draped across the end of the bed.  Felicity picked it up, admiring the simple lines of the yellow dress and the soft, silky material.  She hung it in the walk in closet so it wouldn’t wrinkle and then returned to the bed.  She saw a tank top and some sleep shorts up by the pillow and, sending a silent thank you to Oliver’s sister, she slipped them on and then pulled the covers back. 

The sheets felt a lot like the ones in Oliver’s room had and she groaned out loud as she sunk down into the mattress.  Rolling over, she grabbed her cell phone and made sure an alarm was set for the morning.  Setting the phone back down with a plunk, Felicity let sleep pull her under at last.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, great response on my last chapter! I hope you like this one just as much. Thanks to everyone for reading!


	6. I know I'm finally free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver has a surprise visitor the next morning and several things are finally put to rest.

When Oliver woke the next morning, his leg was aching and his stomach was growling with hunger.  He blinked his eyes and rolled to his side as well as he could without disturbing where his leg still lay propped up on the pillow.  That’s when he saw three things: a paper cup containing a couple pills next to a glass of water, a folded up notecard resting next to the water with his name scrawled in Felicity’s handwriting on the outside, and his crutches leaning up against the night table.  

He pulled himself up against the pillows as best he could, wincing as his leg throbbed.  He took the paper cup and dumped the pills into his mouth and then washed them down with a couple of gulps from the water glass.  Then, he flipped open the card to see a little note from Felicity.  

_Oliver,_

_You were still sleeping when I left for QC this morning and I didn’t want to disturb you.  Please take the meds I left for you and make a note what time you took them.  I want you to keep up with your doses today.  I’ll be checking on you!  I spoke to Raisa before I left and she said she would check in on you and bring you food if you’re hungry so please take advantage of that.  Your phone is in the top drawer of the table and please text me or call if you need anything._

_Hope you’re feeling better this morning._

_\- Felicity_

He smiled as he read it, clearly hearing her voice in his head.  But then he felt a pang of disappointment that she wasn’t there.  It’d been so great to have her here the night before.  Oliver wasn’t the sort that liked to talk about what was weighing on him but yesterday, he learned that there was only so much he could keep inside before it got to be too much to handle.  The difference between how he felt before Felicity had come over and after was proof that she’d helped him.  

Felicity was always helping him.  She never asked for anything in return.  With a twist of remorse, Oliver realised that rarely gave her anything in return either.  Except maybe a hard time.  He recalled how he’d yelled at her about Barry, both times, and cringed.  Admittedly, he was harder on her than he needed to be. A good deal of that was because he had to work so hard when he was around her not to give away how he felt about her.  All that tension tended to make him...  crabby. 

Oliver worked himself into a sitting position and gingerly swung his legs out over the edge of the bed.  His injured leg throbbed painfully and he grit his teeth as he grabbed the crutches and used them and his good leg to push up off the bed.  

It was a little easier to maneuver on the crutches this morning than it had been last night.  He made it to the bathroom and with a little awkward fumbling, was able to take care of business.  Then, he caught his reflection in the mirror.  His stubble had evolved into a beard over the last several days and he desperately needed a trim.  He could also use a shower but wasn’t at all sure how to go about that without getting his bandages on his leg wet.  Well, all he could do was try to wash up best he could. 

He pulled out the small bench that sat under the counter and sat, extending his bandaged leg out.  There were some clippers in a drawer and, snapping on a guide, he trimmed his beard until it was the short stubble that he preferred. After that, he leaned forward over the sink and washed his face and wet his hair as best he could.  As he dabbed his face dry with a soft towel and already felt a bit more pulled together. 

Dressing was a lot more complicated.  He found a fresh pair of sweatpants in his closet and a clean but soft t-shirt and carried them over to the bed.  Sitting carefully on the edge, he maneuvered the old pair of sweatpants off his body and worked the new pair on, only snagging the foot on his injured leg on the sweatpants once.  It was easier to roll the cuff of the sweatpants up past the bandage on his leg.  He knew his leg would need to be re-wrapped at some point soon.  Maybe if he called Felicity, she would come over and do that. The t-shirt was easy enough to manage.  The wound in his chest pulled a little but it was the sort of sensation that told him the flesh there was healing properly.  

Once dressed, he was tempted to fall back onto the bed and maybe sleep again, but he was hungry.  Mindful of Felicity’s note, he was starting to think about how he could call Raisa to his room when there was a quiet knocking at his bedroom door.  

“Come in,” he called out. 

He was expecting Raisa or maybe another member of the staff and was surprised to see Laurel.  She edged into the room, looking unsure, but was put together as she always was without a hair out of place.

“Laurel!  I-- wasn’t expecting you,” he choked out.  He struggled to get back to his feet. 

“No, it’s okay.  Keep sitting,” she said quickly, eyeing his bandaged leg.  “How are you doing?”

He shrugged.  “Been better.  Been worse, actually.  But how about you?  How is...  your dad?”

He watched her swallow and avert her eyes, classic Laurel tells that revealed she was having a hard time dealing.  After the year she’d had, he was hardly surprised.  She moved over to the bed and sat, making sure there was plenty of space between them.  

“He’s having a hard time.  He had more time to get used to her still being alive,” she reminded him pointedly.  “So now he has to grieve all over again.  Me...  I’m having a harder time dealing with all the secrets that have been kept from me.”

“I’m sorry, Laurel,” he said earnestly. 

She looked up and met his eyes, her green eyes hard.  “How many times have you lied to me over the last two years, Ollie?”

“I had good reasons,” he said.  “Sara, she asked me not to tell you.  Begged me, in fact.”

“Your _assistant_ knew she was alive before I did.  She even knew who you really were,” Laurel accused. 

“Felicity?  Yes, she knew.  She’s been helping me, actually.  Her and Diggle both.”  He felt a swelling of fondness when he thought about his team.  

Laurel’s eyebrows went up.  “Your bodyguard?”

Oliver nodded.  “They’ve kept my secret and saved my ass more times than I can count.”

Her mouth twisted bitterly.  “So you could tell them, people you didn’t even know before last year, but you couldn’t tell me?”

“I wasn’t planning on telling anyone.  Everyone who knew me...  before...  had expectations.  My family, Laurel...  they still don’t know,” he said quietly. 

“The people who love you the most, then.  Ollie, that doesn’t make any sense.”

He prickled a little with annoyance.  “Not entirely.  My team...  they’re very important to me.  And... ” Oliver trailed off and swallowed thickly before continuing.  “Tommy knew.”

Laurel’s eyes widened at that.  “He did?  For how long?  Since you were back?”

“No, just before...  not long before the Glades... ”  

“Oh.”  She fell quiet and he could see from her face that she was working things out in her mind.  “Ohhhh...  Wait a minute.  Is that why Tommy... ?”

“Why he broke up with you?” Oliver finished for her quietly.  He’d been dreading this. 

“Yes.  Is it?”

“I think it...  might have had something to do with it.  We talked and argued and he thought that I was still in love with you and... ”  How could he finish this sentence?  Regret gathered in his throat and he tried to swallow past it. 

“Were you?”

This was why she was such a good lawyer.  “I don’t know.  I thought I was.  I came back from the island, thinking about you and then when I thought we were finally solving all the problems I’d set out to solve, I thought... ”

Her expression softened.  “You thought maybe you could get your old life back.”

Oliver nodded.  “I did.  I wanted to.  Or I thought I did.”

“But you’re not the same man, Ollie.  I was able to see that right away.  When we were...  together...  I saw it again.  I hoped maybe you would come around but I think I realise now that this is just who you are now.”

It wasn’t the first time Laurel had ever acknowledged he was different, but it was the first time she’d come close to accepting the change as permanent.  “I’m sorry.  It would have been easier if I could...  If I could be Ollie again.”

“Yeah, it would have been.  But then, things were already different by the time you got back.  Tommy and I had been involved and half in love with each other.  Regardless of who you had changed into...  I had changed too,” Laurel said.  

She was right.  Oliver felt something, something that had been lodged in his heart, break free as what she’d said sunk in.  A lightness followed that sensation.  He may have changed but so had she.  They were _never_ going to work because what they’d had, while important to both of them, was in the past.  It was a revelation and the shock of it must have shown on his face because she reached over to place her hand over his. 

“It’s okay, Ollie.”  Laurel sighed a little ruefully.  “I had a hard time coming to terms with it.  It was all wrapped up in how I felt about Tommy and then losing Tommy which...  oh god, Oliver.  Discovering how much you love someone after you’ve lost them for good and can never tell them? That’s the worst thing ever.  I tried to hide from it all, took the pills, drank wine, ran my life into the ground.  Getting disbarred was probably the best thing that could have happened to me.  Helped me wake up.”

“I hated to see you suffering,” he told her.  What’d she’d said about regret and losing Tommy and realising her feelings after he was gone struck him in an aching way that he wasn’t quite ready to explore. 

“I know you did.  And I was so bitter I couldn’t see your offer of friendship for what it is,” she replied, her voice laced with regret.  “But I understand now.  While I’m still angry with you for keeping so many secrets from me...  I think I can see why you did.”

A muted buzzing sound interrupted them and Oliver recognized it as his cell phone in the night table drawer.  He reached over, straining a little, and retrieved it.  Felicity’s picture on the screen told him who had sent the text message.  He thumbed the unlock icon and read the message. 

_How r u doing?  Did you take your meds?_

Oliver looked up at Laurel, who was looking at him curiously.  “Sorry, I just need to reply to this really quick,” he told her.  

_Doing fine.  Took meds.  Are you coming by later?_

He pressed the send button and then bit his lip as he waited for a reply.  “Must be important,” Laurel murmured.  

“It is,” he replied. 

_Do you want me to? I will if you need me._

Oliver felt at odds with how to reply.  He wanted to ask her what _she_ wanted to do.  But then that would take time and the fact of the matter was, he _did_ need her.  More than that, he _wanted_ her to be there.  Sighing, he tapped out a quick reply and sent it. 

_Yes. I need you._

Her reply came almost instantly. 

_I’ll be there soon as I can._

Oliver set his phone aside and smiled apologetically at Laurel.  “Sorry about that.”

“Arrow business?” she asked. 

“Er, not exactly.” How did he explain it?  He could barely explain it to himself.  Better just to try to sidestep the issue altogether. 

“So, what is your plan now?” he asked her.  

Laurel took a deep breath and looked down at her hands where they lay clasped together in her lap.  “I was thinking of leaving with Nyssa.” 

Nyssa al Ghul.  Warning blazed through him.  “Laurel, I don’t think--”

“She helped train Sara.  She can train me.”

“Laurel, Sara was trying to get away from her, from them.  From the whole League.  She wouldn’t want that for you,” Oliver insisted.  

“She’s not here to get a say,” Laurel said simply, her voice hard.  “This is my choice.  There’s nothing for me here anymore.”  She met his eye and they exchanged a significant look.  He could see that she meant him and their relationship in her statement.  

“You don’t have to do this.”  He had to try.  Laurel had no idea what kind of life she would be signing up for and frankly, Oliver didn’t know if she was strong enough to withstand it. 

“Yes, I do,” she insisted.  “Because I’m mad now and I need to do something about it.  I won’t be able to rest until I feel I am doing something.  You must understand.”

Oliver sighed.  He did understand, maybe a little too well.  “Dammit, Laurel.  What about your dad?”

 Her features tightened and he detected a tremble in her chin.  “He doesn’t need me.”

“Are you kidding?  Of course he does.  I know what happened after, well, after the Gambit went down.  You kept him together.  You were his rock.  How can you leave him now?”

“I won’t be gone forever.  I’ll come back and I’ll be in touch.”

“Jesus, Laurel, this isn’t summer camp.  What do you even know about the League?” he asked her, feeling his temper rise. 

She got to her feet, looking at him.  “Have you had any breakfast yet?  Actually, I should ask if you’ve had lunch since it’s already afternoon.”

Oliver blinked.  “No, I haven’t.”

“I’ll go down to the kitchens and get something.  I’ll be right back.”

“Laurel... ”

“I have something to tell you, Oliver, but...  just give me a moment, okay?” Her eyes were pleading. 

“Okay,” he said, feeling at a loss.  

She hurried out of the room and Oliver rearranged himself on the bed in her absence.  It took a bit of fumbling around, but he was able to prop pillows against the headboard to lean against and then a few lower on the bed for him to lay his bandaged leg on.  When she returned about fifteen minutes later, bearing a tray, he was as comfortable as he was going to get.  

She set the tray down on the bed next to him and then grabbed one of the chairs next to the windows and pulled it over.  He looked at what she’d brought, finding a bowl of macaroni and cheese, a bag of chips, a can of soda and some cookies.  

“This looks like a twelve year old’s lunch,” he remarked, even as he pulled the tray onto his lap and took a big bite of the cheesy pasta. 

Laurel arched a brow at him.  “Don’t even pretend you don’t have a soft spot for comfort food,” she told him. 

He fought a snort.  “I guess maybe you do still know me at least a little.”

She watched as he ate and he felt a little awkward about it but it turned out that he was hungrier than he’d thought he was.  He offered her the bag of chips but she held up a hand and shook her head.  

“So, tell me what it is you have to tell me, Laurel.”

She looked reluctant and he sighed. 

“I’ll find out anyhow.  You know I will.”   Or rather, Felicity would.  There was nothing that woman couldn’t find once she put her mind to it. 

“Nyssa didn’t give me a whole lot of choice,” Laurel murmured, her eyes downcast.  “She said she was sent to bring back a Lance, and that’s what she’d do.  But Oliver, I _want_ to go.”

He grit his teeth.  “Did she threaten you?”

“My dad,” she confirmed.  

“I could protect him.  And you.  You know that.”

“I do.  I still want to go.  I would have gone probably if she hadn’t threatened, to be honest.  Or I would have gone somewhere else.  This just gives me a destination.  And I can honor Sara’s memory this way,” she said. 

They both might have changed over the years and become different people, but he knew Laurel was as stubborn as they came.  And a part of him knew she was right, that there was nothing for her here in Starling City.  Not right now.  Maybe if he didn’t understand the need for purpose, the need to honor the dead, the need to _act_ , he might have worked harder to change her mind.  

“Be careful,” he finally told her, his voice low.  

Laurel smiled, exhaling in relief.  “Thanks, Ollie.”

There was a noise from the doorway and Oliver looked up to see Felicity standing there.  Her eyes were wide behind her glasses and her mouth worked with no sound coming out.  He realised in a flash what she must think, seeing Laurel here.  

“I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she finally said. 

Laurel’s head whipped up and she looked just as surprised to see Felicity standing in the doorway as she’d been to find her sitting next to his bed. 

“No, you’re fine, Felicity,” he assured her quickly.  “You’re not interrupting anything.” 

“I just thought you said...  but that’s okay, I’ll come back later,” she said, gesturing over her shoulder.  

“No! Please, don’t go,” he called out.  

Laurel, meanwhile, was looking between them with understanding dawning on her face.  “Oh!  Oh, no, I’m sorry.  I was just...  checking on Ollie, seeing how he was doing.”  She got to her feet and smiled at Felicity. 

Felicity stepped tentatively into the room, still looking unsure.  “It’s good to see you, Laurel. How are you doing?” 

“As well as can be expected.  Thank you for asking.”

They were polite, sure, but the tension in the room had amplified tenfold.  Felicity was clearly unsure if she should even be there and Laurel was...  well, she looked as though she was coming to conclusions that he wasn’t all that comfortable with her coming to.  

“That’s good.  Please, give your dad my best,” Felicity said. 

Laurel smiled.  “I will.”  She looked back to Oliver.  “I’ll be in touch before I leave,” she assured him. 

He nodded back.  “Please do.” 

She left right after that and Felicity continued to stand in the middle of the room, looking awkward.  Oliver took another bite of his pasta and gestured at the chair Laurel had been sitting in.  “Please, sit down.  You’re making me nervous.”

She complied quickly.  “I’m really sorry that I interrupted.  I didn’t know she was here.”

Oliver knew what she was really saying.  That if Laurel had been here, why had he texted her that he needed her?   He wasn’t sure he had an answer for her.  He just knew that it was true.  What he needed and what Felicity could do just by being here, was something that Laurel couldn’t do.  It was as simple as that.  

“You didn’t,” he insisted.  “She was just leaving when you came anyhow.  We just had a talk, that’s all.  Settled some things.  I’ll tell you about it, if you like.”

Felicity seemed to relax and she smiled at him. “I’d like that.”

As he told her what Laurel had said about Nyssa and the League of Assassins, Felicity reached out and took his hand where it had been resting on the bed next to him.  He felt himself calming, even as retelling Laurel’s decision stirred up his emotions over her choice.  But that is what Felicity did for him, calming him when he needed it the most. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone's patience over the weekend. I'm sorry I didn't update sooner but its harder for me to find time to write on the weekend with the familly all home and running errands all around town. 
> 
> This was a hard chapter to write! I didn't want to do any disservice to Laurel but I wanted to explore her mental state in the aftermath of what happened and what might spur her on towards going down the road to becoming the Black Canary. I hope I did it justice!


	7. Your smile gives you away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity helps Oliver take care of his bathing problem and the tension between them ramps up!

The afternoon had been a roller coaster ride of emotions already and it wasn’t even three o’clock yet.  The texts from Oliver where he said he needed her had made her start to hope in a way she had been trying desperately to quell for weeks now.  She’d quickly finished up her work at QC and then hopped in her car.  The whole ride over to the Queen mansion, she’d worked herself up over it.  The way Oliver had been looking at her lately, coupled with the closeness they’d had last night and then those text messages...  She’d thought...  Well, she’d thought something she had no business thinking. 

Then she’d seen Laurel in Oliver’s room and immediately her hopes had been dashed to pieces.  After all, this was _Laurel_ and she was Oliver’s ex-girlfriend.  More than that, Felicity had always had the impression that Oliver always hoped they would be able to patch things up between them some day.  Plus, their conversation had seemed...  intimate.  It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.  

But then, Laurel had been quick to leave as soon as Felicity had arrived and Oliver had appeared so happy to see her.  He told her what he and Laurel had talked about, about how she was leaving with Nyssa al Ghul to train in Sara’s place.  She had a feeling there was something else he wasn’t telling her but maybe it was personal and he didn’t want to say.  If that was the case, she didn’t want to press him. 

When he finished his lunch, she took the tray from him and set it outside his bedroom door, making a mental note to carry it down to the kitchen when she left. When she sat back in the chair next to his bed, Oliver was picking at the edge of his blanket and acting altogether uncharacteristic.  

“So, you’re staying again tonight, right?” he asked and she was just as startled at his overly casual tone as she was at the question. 

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

Oliver’s face visibly fell.  “Oh.”  Something in her gut twisted.

“You dont need me here,” she said gently. 

He clenched his jaw so tightly that she saw a muscle jump. “I do.”  

She almost didn’t hear him, he said it so quietly.  “Why, Oliver?” she asked.  She had to know.  The highs and lows her emotions had been on this afternoon told her that much.  She couldn’t take this dancing on the edge without knowing what it was all about.  Or at least knowing what he thought it was all about. 

Oliver turned pained eyes on her. “Felicity... ”

She thought about whatever it was he wasn’t telling her about his conversation with Laurel.  There was some reason he was holding back and maybe pushing him wasn’t the best idea.  Still, Felicity planned to keep an extra eye on her heart.  She didn’t want to open herself up to the inevitable pain if she let herself fall head over heels for Oliver.  She knew enough about herself to know that when she fell, she fell hard.  And Oliver wasn’t the sort of man to get into a serious relationship with someone.  Wasn’t that what he’d told her after Russia and Isabel? 

So, she decided to take it easy on him.  “Fine,” she sighed.  “What do you need?”  Maybe if she approached this like just another one of her executive assistant duties, then she’d stand half a chance of getting through with her heart intact. 

Something flickered through his blue eyes before he answered.  “Actually, I was wondering if you knew where my discharge instructions were?  It’s just that...  It’s been a while since I’ve had a shower or anything and I think I’m probably due.”  

Was he actually...  blushing? Feeling a flush rise on her own cheeks in answer, she looked around the room.  She spotted a rolltop desk and walked over to it.  There on the top lay the short stack of papers that she recognised from his hospital discharge.  

“Here they are,” she announced, holding them up.  As she walked back to his bedside, she flipped through the papers, looking for any information about changing the bandages and bathing.  There were instructions about rewrapping his leg everyday, something which hadn’t been done yesterday, and about keeping it wrapped and the bandage dry.  The notes suggested using a garbage bag wrapped around the bandage to keep it dry.  Biting her lip, Felicity considered.  It might be easier on Oliver and easier to keep the bandage dry if he took a bath rather than a shower.  Which meant he might need help getting in and out of the tub.  

She stopped next to him and flashed him a look.  He raised an eyebrow.  “Well?”

As quickly as she could, she explained to him what he needed to do and hoped she wasn’t blushing too much.  “So I’m gonna run downstairs to the kitchen and see if I can find a garbage bag to wrap around your leg.  Uhm, do you think you can get in the bathroom on your own, get the tub filled and get ready to get in?”

“Sure,” he said on a long exhale. 

“I promise I won’t look,” she was quick to say. 

Oliver chuckled.  “It’s okay, Felicity.  Let’s just get this done.  I’m tired of smelling myself.”

Felicity hurried from the room, grabbing the tray from outside the door, and made her way to the kitchen.  The staff member she ran into there took the tray and when she asked, handed her a large garbage bag.  She smiled her thanks and headed back to Oliver.  She tried to take her time, realising he needed enough time to get undressed.  She took her time in the main hallway to look at the art on the walls.  The last thing she wanted was to burst in while he was pulling off his pants or something. 

When she entered his room, very hesitantly, she didn’t see him but she could hear the sound of running water in the bathroom.  Felicity walked to the door, which stood ajar, and called through it.  “Oliver?  I have the garbage bag.  How are you doing in there?”

There was a rustling and a thump.  “Great.  This is awkward as hell.  Give me a sec, I think I’ll need some help,” he called back. 

She swallowed and tried desperately not to think about Oliver getting naked on the other side of the door.  She wasn’t terribly successful.  A moment later, he called out for her to come in.  Nervously, she pushed the door open and saw him sitting on the edge of the enormous soaking tub with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips.  The tub was nearly full and she almost chuckled to see he’d poured in some bubble bath, filling the bathroom with the scent of vanilla.  Almost, but not quite, because that was _Oliver_ sitting there, watching her expectantly, and wearing no more than just a towel.  

Lifting the garbage bag in front of her, she smiled and hoped he couldn’t read her nervousness. “Here, lets get this on you.”

He lifted his leg, wincing a little and she wrapped the leg in the garbage bag, cinching it just under the knee and securing that with the drawstring ties of the bag.  She stood and surveyed her work.  “I guess that’ll have to do.  I mean, it won’t keep water out so we’ll have to be careful not to get your leg submerged but it’ll protect it in the event of any splashing water, right?”

“Looks fine to me,” he reassured her.

“Do you still need my help?” she asked, desperate to put some distance between him and her before she let her imagination get the better of her.  Once that happened, there was no telling what flub she’d make. Her track record wasn’t very encouraging.

Oliver looked a little sheepish.  “Do you think you could help me get into the tub?  I’m just worried that I won’t be able to balance with my leg out.”

Oh, shit. He was right, of course.  He would need help not just getting _in_ the tub but getting out again.  And simply due to her _being there_ , she was the best person for the job.  God, she really hadn’t thought this through.  She should have called Dig to come help.  Oh well, too late for that now.  The best course of action was going to be fighting to show that it didn’t affect her.  

“Alright,” she breathed.  Oliver started to pull the towel around his hips away and she averted her eyes quickly.  If he noticed, he didn’t say anything.  Instead, they worked quietly together.  She let him brace himself against her and she supported his arms as he lowered himself into the water.  Once she was sure that the important bits were underneath the obscuring bubbles, she moved around to help him position his leg so that it was comfortable to keep out of the water.  He sighed deeply as he leaned back and the water lapped up around his chest.  

Felicity felt like her whole face was completely on fire and she knew if she caught sight of herself in the mirror, she’d be bright red from her hairline down to the neck of her dress.  

“Do you mind helping me get my hair washed too?” he asked, flashing her a charming smile. “I know I’m asking a lot of you here, and I’m sorry.  I really am grateful.  I’m going to owe you a whole case of wine when this is all said and done.”

“Yes, you are,” she gritted out.  She found the detachable showerhead and a bottle of shampoo and got them ready to use.  Sitting back on the edge of the tub, she sighed.  “But I am really glad I could help, Oliver.  I’m glad you felt you could ask me.”

“Who else would I ask?”

She resisted listing off the people who could have probably done all this with far less awkwardness.  It was probably a rhetorical question anyhow. 

Using the showerhead, she wet his hair and then set it aside and poured a small dollop of shampoo on his head.  Using her fingers, she worked the soap into a lather and tried to pretend she didn’t hear a sound not entirely unlike a purr rumble up from his chest.  She rinsed the suds away, ignoring the tremble in her hands, and then used a small washcloth to wipe the water from his eyes gently before handing him the washcloth and a bottle of body wash.  

“Here, I think you can handle the rest on your own,” she murmured.  “I’ll just be out in your room, let me know when you’re ready to get out.”

“Okay,” he replied, and his voice sounded rough. 

Wiping her hands on another towel, she got to her feet and quickly left the bathroom.  Out in the relative safety of his bedroom, she fanned at her face which felt like it was engulfed in flames.  “Okay, Felicity. You can _do_ this.  He’s your _boss_.  He’s your _friend_.  This is no big deal,” she told herself firmly.  “And please, for the love of god, stop talking out loud to yourself before he hears you.”

She sat on the edge of his bed and kicked her feet a little before she got back up.  Sitting still was no good.  She had to keep moving.  Walking into the closet, she found some fresh flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt for him to change into.  She paused before the dresser, wondering if she dared delve into his underwear drawer.  Then, she chastised herself for being silly about it and pulled the top drawer open.  Predictably, his boxer briefs were all there and trying not to put too much thought into it, she reached in and grabbed out a pair, adding it to the pile of clothing in her arms. 

“Felicity!” 

She hurried to the bathroom and Oliver smiled when he saw her. “I’m all set. Little help?” 

She smiled nervously back and set the clothes on the counter next to the tub.  She pulled a big fluffy towel out of the closet next to the sink and set it on the edge of the tub, away from where she expected him to splash water on his way out.  

It took a little maneuvering and getting him _into_ the tub was clearly a lot easier than getting him _out_ of the tub.  She braced herself and held her arms out, letting him use her as a support as he he pushed up with his good leg.  Once again, she studiously averted her eyes, but when he wobbled suddenly on his feet and she worried he would crash down, she accidentally glanced down.  

_Oh, my_. 

Felicity looked away so quickly that she was sure she’d get whiplash.  She gripped his wet skin a little tighter and he regained himself.  She got him sat on the edge of the tub and, keeping her eyes away from where she was so tempted to peek again, she moved around to help position his other leg.  Then, she handed him the fluffy towel and turned away, quickly.  

“Erm, your crutches are right there and the clothes are on the counter and I’ll just be out in your room,” she said, not even daring to meet his eye.  Then she fled like the coward she was.  

Pacing his room, she tried to banish the image of Oliver, naked and wet, from her traitorous brain.  Seriously, her fantasies hadn’t even come _close._  Oh, god, Felicity.   _Stop thinking about it_. 

She should leave.  She should...  go, before this got even more awkward than it already was.  Yes, that was the best idea for both of them.  She looked around and spotted her purse on the floor next to Oliver’s bed and rushed over to pick it up.  She looked around her to see if she’d left anything else and then walked to the door.  Her hand was on the knob when she heard movement behind her.  

“Where are you going?” Oliver asked. He stood just inside the room, wearing the flannel pants (one leg hiked up over the bandaged leg) and t-shirt she’d picked out, propped awkwardly on the crutches.  His face was creased with confusion. 

“I thought maybe I should get going,” she explained. 

“I thought you were going to stay tonight?” 

She couldn’t stand the nearly hurt expression on his face.  “We never decided that.”

“Let’s decide now,” he suggested, hobbling over to the bed.  He sat heavily on the edge, resting the crutches against the poster at the foot of the bed.  “Stay.”

“Is it really such a good idea?” Felicity asked.  She turned from the door and took a few steps towards him but made no move to set down her purse.  “I mean, I’m not sure you need me here really.  You’ve got your bath and everything and anything else you need I’m sure your sister or--”

“No,” he cut her off. “I need _you_.  Please, Felicity.”

“How can you say that after... ”  She trailed off helplessly, gesturing towards the bathroom.  She could feel her cheeks turning pink. 

“I’m really sorry I put you in that position,” Oliver admitted. “But at the same time...  I’m glad it was you.”

“We need to have a talk, Oliver,” she said.  But she moved over to the bed and sat in the chair there, dropping her purse on the floor next to it.  She could at least help him by rewrapping the bandages on his leg.

He relaxed visibly, his shoulders falling forward slightly.  He nodded a little, looking down at his lap.  “Yeah, we do.”

“If I stay, can we have that talk?” she asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Alright,” she murmured.  Felicity made sure she was settled.  “Here, let me unwrap your leg.”

Oliver nodded and leaned his head back so he didn’t have to watch as she unwrapped the bandage from around his leg.  It had been secured rather tightly and she made a note of the tension for when it was time to wrap it back up again. 

The skin under the bandage was compressed, pale and bruised in such a way that she felt tears spring to to her eyes.  His ankle especially looked terrible.  Not only was there bruising from the break, but the scars from his surgery made it look awful.  She glanced up to see Oliver watching her with concerned eyes. 

“That bad, huh?” he asked. 

She shrugged as nonchalantly as she could.  “I wasn’t expecting it to look so...  painful.”

“It’s not bad when I’m up on my pain meds.  Or when I’m laying still,” he remarked.  

“I’m not hurting you now, are you?”

Oliver shook his head.  “No, you’re fine.”

When she had the whole leg unwrapped, she had an inspiration.  Felicity walked into the bathroom and retrieved a fresh washcloth, wetting it under the tap before returning to the bed.  Carefully and gently, she cleaned his leg.  He stayed completely silent while she did this and she could just about hear her own heart pounding in her ears.  Once she finished, she returned the washcloth to the bathroom and then started to wrap his leg back up.  Once she felt she had it tight enough, she secured the end and then sat back to survey her work.  Then, she looked up at him expectantly. 

“What?”  

“Let’s have our talk.”     

His eyebrows shot up.  “Right now?”  

Felicity shrugged.  “You have somewhere else to go?”

Oliver made an aggravated noise and he flopped back onto his pillows again.  “I don’t get a stay of execution?  Not even from being injured?”  He pouted at her and she rolled her eyes. 

“You said we would talk,” she reminded him quietly.  “Do you want me to stay or not?”

“What do you want me to say?” he asked. 

“What’s happening here?  Why do you need me in particular to stay?”  She held her breath and watched as Oliver blew out a breath. 

“You’re asking me questions I’m not sure I know the answer to,” he said quietly.  He wasn’t meeting her eye, instead choosing to look up at the ceiling. 

Felicity had to concede that point.  How could she expect him to know what was happening with them when she didn’t even know herself?  

“All I know is that I feel better with you here.  I can...  deal, easier.  I can talk to you,” he admitted.  His hands clenched on his lap and she reached forward to cover his fists with her hands.  He relaxed and knit his fingers with hers, lifting their joined hands.  “See this?  This is what I know.  This is what is working for me right now.  Is that okay?”

She bit her lip.  “It’s nice,” she admitted.  “I just...  need to be careful.”

“Careful?  Why?”

“Oliver...  I don’t have a lot of people in my life.  I’ve lost both of my parents, I have no siblings.  I’m not close with my extended family.   I don’t even have very many friends outside of you and Dig and Barry.  But that doesn’t mean that I can’t form connections.”  She paused and took a deep breath.  “Quite the opposite, really.”

“Dig and I will always be here for you, Felicity.  You know that.”

“I do.  And believe me, I am _so_ grateful for it,” she said.  “I don’t know what I would do without you guys.  But I’m not just talking about friendship.”

“You can tell me,” he said encouragingly. 

“I’m _really_ bad at relationships,” she began.  “I have a bit of a history of falling hard for the wrong guy.  In high school, I fell hard for the football quarterback.  Or, at least I thought it was falling hard at the time.  Then, in college, I fell for one of my professors.”

Oliver looked at her, eyes wide with surprise.  “Felicity!”  A smile threatened at the corners of his mouth.

“I know.  Oh, it was the stupidest thing I could have ever done.  And I let it get way too far.  By the time I had to break it off for both our sakes, I was deeply in love and the pain...  Well.  I haven’t been in love again since.  Too risky, you know?  I leave too much of myself open and I just...  I can’t do that.  I can’t go through that again.”

Felicity chanced a look up at him, expecting to see pity.  Or even worse, judgement.  Instead, she saw blue eyes filled with emotion.  

“I think that’s a wonderful thing, Felicity, that you think you love too much.  I wish that were my problem,” Oliver confessed.  “I worry that I’m not able to love at all.”

“I know that’s not true,” she told him.  “You love your family.  I’ve seen it.  You loved Tommy.  You love Laurel... ”

“I _loved_ Laurel,” he corrected.  “And I’m not sure I could even call what we had love.  We spent so much time hurting each other.  Mostly, me hurting her.  You don’t do that when you’re in love, do you?” 

His words surprised her.  “I think it depends.  Not all love is the same.”  She scooted her chair a little closer to him so she could lean in a little closer, noticing the way his eyes lit up when she did so.  “For instance, what I felt for Billy the quarterback was considerably different than what I felt for Jeremy, the professor.”

Felicity stopped herself before she continued her thought, biting her lip.  He watched her thoughtfully and she felt his thumb running over the back of her hand.  

“That makes sense, actually,” he finally said.  He didn’t clarify any further and she didn’t ask for more. “So do you understand why I’d like you here now?”

She had a feeling this discussion wasn’t over yet.  There was still a lot unsaid but they’d made some fairly huge admissions to one another and she didn’t want to push it. “Yeah.  I do.  I’ll stay.  But I need to make a quick trip to my place to pick up some clothes and things.  I can’t keep wearing your sister’s stuff. But I promise I’ll be right back, okay?”

Oliver nodded and she noticed his eyelids fluttering.  Felicity chuckled fondly. 

“Tired?” she ask, amused. 

“A little.”  He yawned hugely, his jaw making a creaking noise.  “Okay, a lot.”  

“Alright. You take a nap and I’ll be back when you wake up again.  Deal?”

“Deal.”

He was asleep before she’d even left the room.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for being patient! I'm sorry I didn't have this chapter ready yesterday (Tuesday was a busy busy day for me!). And, due to the new episode tonight, I'm not sure I'll have the next chapter ready tomorrow either. It might be Friday before I update again. Sorry about that!
> 
> I hope you like this chapter, it was surprisingly difficult to write!


	8. You're never gonna have to cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver gets better and he comes to a greater realisation of what he wants with Felicity. Will they finally be able to move forward in their relationship?

Oliver managed to talk Felicity into staying, not just that night, but another as well.  After that, she insisted on returning to her apartment.  He knew he had no reason he could give her to make her stay so he reluctantly let her go.  As much as he hated to admit it, he was dealing a lot better than he had when he’d first gotten home from the hospital.  After the incident with the bathtub, as he’d begun to think of it as, Felicity had returned from retrieving herself an overnight bag and then had insisted he make the journey down to the dining room to have dinner with his family.  She had told him he couldn’t stay shut up in his room forever and that his family would love to see him up and about.  Dig had helped him get down the stairs since no one trusted him to be able to navigate it successfully with his crutches.  He then joined them for dinner.  

His mom and Thea had been so happy to have him at dinner with them that they hadn’t even raised a fuss over Felicity and Dig being there as well.  In fact, if anything, Thea had been downright gleeful and looked as though she was trying to recruit Felicity as her new bestie.  Not only did Felicity not appear to mind, but she welcomed his sister’s friendly overtures.  They were making plans to go shopping together on the weekend before dessert was even served.  Something about their friendliness settled him and filled him with satisfaction. 

The next day was his appointment with the surgeon who had worked on his ankle.  His stitches were removed and he was fitted with a walking boot to wear over his bandages.  Oliver would still need to use the crutches, at least at first, but it increased his mobility significantly.  He returned with Felicity to QC after that appointment and he found he was happy to be doing something rather than laying in bed at home for a change. 

On her last night at the mansion, Felicity had talked him into watching “Iron Man” in the casual living room with her.  Thea had joined them and even his mom had sat in for a while before claiming she had a headache and heading to bed early.  Despite Thea’s distracting comments about how dreamy Robert Downey Jr. was, Oliver found he really did enjoy the movie.  Even more, he enjoyed watching Felicity’s obvious enjoyment.  She curled up on the sofa next to him and her toes pressed into his leg for more than half the movie.  He didn’t think she noticed, but he definitely did.  The contact was...  nice.  As were the times their fingers met in the popcorn bowl when they’d both reach in for a handful at the same time.  

It’d certainly given him something to think about that night when he was laying in bed.  Oliver had no idea what was going on regarding his feelings towards Felicity.  Okay, that was not entirely true.  He had a pretty good idea what was going on and it was exactly what he’d spent months trying to avoid.  For a while, he was able to use Barry Allen as a distraction.  Felicity had been focused on her friend and his unfortunate coma and she hadn’t even seemed to notice any romantic feelings Oliver might have had towards her.  

But things had changed in the last week.  He knew he needed her in the Foundry and at QC but now he knew that he needed her in his personal life as well.  The next step should have been natural for them both but instead, he was paralyzed by the fear that he would only end up chasing her away if he pressed his feelings on her and she wasn’t ready.  But then, during the last week, she had seemed to be more open to him.  Her charming and shy response the day she’d helped him take a bath had told him that she was certainly noticing him on a sexual level. 

Jesus, _that bath_.  He knew she’d caught a glance of him when he was getting out of the tub.  Her face had been practically purple.  And he was just glad that she hadn’t gotten a look while she was washing his hair.  The feel of her fingernails scraping against his scalp had shot bolts of sensation directly to his groin.  It was hardly the first time that Felicity was responsible for one of his erections ( _all those nights, dreaming about her..._ ), but it _was_ the first time it’d happened in her presence. 

Now, Oliver was here at his desk at QC after the first night since the accident without Felicity there at the mansion.  He hadn’t slept all that well.  Something about knowing she was just across the hall had helped him rest easier.  When he woke up this morning, he’d forgone taking the narcotic pain meds he’d been prescribed in favor of some over-the-counter ibuprofen instead.  He needed to be able to perform at work without having his mind fogged, he reasoned to himself.  He needed to show the investors and other employees of QC that he was capable of doing his job. Plus, Isabel hadn’t been by to give him a hard time since he’d come back to the office the other day and he had a feeling she wasn’t going to stay away much longer. 

As though he had summoned her just by thinking of her, Isabel came striding into his office about twenty minutes after he’d arrived.  He hadn’t even finished his coffee yet.  Aggravation prickled at him as he closed out the emails he’d been going through on his computer. 

“Oh, don’t bother standing up to greet me,” Isabel sang out as she walked in, her heels clicking on the polished floor.  “I wouldn’t want to put our precious CEO out any.”

Oliver gave her a dark look.  “What do you need, Isabel?” he asked, sighing. 

“I wanted to come and see if the reports are true, that you really did break your leg...  how was that again?  Getting away from a jealous husband?  Need I remind you that you are involved in a fairly serious business here at QC?  Did you even think about how this would reflect on the company?” She arched a perfectly formed eyebrow at him. 

“Where are you getting your information?” he demanded.  That it was the “cover story” they’d given the hospital didn’t make much difference as far as he was concerned.  They’d had to tell the nurses something that would explain both the leg and the gunshot wound.  As far as business was concerned, he and Dig had agreed that a tamer “mountain biking accident” story was more appropriate.  The general public didn’t know about the gunshot wound, after all, and it was less damaging to the reputation he was trying to build here at QC. So how had Isabel heard the other story? 

“Does it matter?” she asked with a feline smile.  “A mountain biking accident, Oliver?  Do you honestly expect people to believe that?”

“Yes, actually, I do.”

“It seems I was right about you the first time.  You really _are_ the selfish playboy everyone thinks you are,” she taunted.  “Which will only make it that much easier to finally get this company away from your control.”

“Excuse me, Ms. Rochev, but aren’t you jumping to some pretty wild conclusions?” a firm voice from the doorway to his office spoke up.  

Isabel turned on her heel to face Felicity, who stood with a sheaf of papers in her arms, regarding her with a cool expression.  “Ms. Smoak, you can’t tell me you’re naive enough to buy his excuse?”

“If Oliver says that’s what happened, then that’s what happened.  That’s the only explanation I need,” Felicity explained simply.  Oliver felt a warming in his chest, watching her defend him.  He should have known she would but it still surprised him.  “And it should be enough for you as well.”

“I really don’t think--” Isabel began but Felicity cut her off. 

“Unless you have an understanding of Mr. Queen away from the walls of QC that you’re willing to share with everyone along with the rest of your suspicions.”  The implication behind Felicity’s words was clear.  If Isabel was going to drag Oliver’s name through the mud, then perhaps information about her affair with Oliver in Moscow would be leaked as well.  

Oliver enjoyed the way Isabel’s face fell and emptied of color.  Felicity smiled innocently, blinking her big blue eyes behind her glasses.  Isabel’s own dark eyes narrowed on her. “I see what game you’re playing,” she hissed, angry. 

“Game?  I’m not playing a game, Ms. Rochev.  This is _business_ , not _pleasure_ ,” she reminded her.  

Isabel had no response for that but the anger she radiated was nearly palpable.  She didn’t reply and clipped past Felicity quickly on her way to the elevators and her own office.  They both watched her go and when Oliver turned his attention back to Felicity, he saw a satisfied smile curving her lips. 

“Wow,” he breathed, unable to take his eyes off of her.  That turned him on a lot more than it should have.

She crossed to his desk, laying the papers in her arms in his inbox.  “I wasn’t going to stand there and let her get away with that.”

“I don’t need you fighting my battles for me,” he told her and she looked ready to argue.  He held up a finger, stopping her.  “But thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Queen,” she murmured, peering up at him through her lowered lashes.  “It was my pleasure.” 

Was she being... coy?   _She was._ He swallowed heavily.  “Felicity...”

She paused, just about to turn away and go back to her desk.  “Yes?”

Oliver let his eyes slide closed for a moment, gathering the nerve and resolve to say what he wanted to say.  “I’d like to take you out to dinner.”

Felicity’s mouth popped open and clearly that was the last thing she’d been expecting him to say.  “What, like a date?” 

He chuckled.  “Yes, exactly like a date.  I was thinking tomorrow night? We don’t have much going on... at the foundry.  I’d like to take you somewhere nice.”

“Oh, wow,” she breathed.  She looked as though she’d been socked in the stomach. 

“What?”

“It’s just... I imagined this for so long and now its happening and...” Felicity trailed off, wide eyes finding his.  Then, she cringed.  “Ohh, I mean, I didn’t--  Oh, crap.”

Oliver couldn’t fight the laugh that bubbled up from his throat.  It did something to him to know that she’d thought of the two of them as a couple before.  This wasn’t just her admiring his body as he worked out on the salmon ladder or sparring with Dig.  Her unconscious admission did a lot to set him at ease, actually.  

“And I was hoping,” he began.  He stopped and cleared his throat, forcing himself to look up and meet her eye.  “I was hoping we could talk.  About us.”

A blush spread across her cheeks but it wasn’t embarrassment.  “Okay,” she replied, quiet.  Then she smiled again and it was such a genuinely happy expression that he couldn’t stop himself from answering it with a smile of his own. 

***

Felicity spent the rest of her day in a happy haze.  Oliver had actually asked her out!  Never in a million years had she thought he’d actually do it.  In the last week, as they’d grown even closer, she began to think that maybe they would just fall into a relationship together, if it happened at all.  He wasn’t very big on talking about his emotions and so a grand discussion didn’t seem likely.  And she’d never expected he would ask her out.  It was such a romantic gesture...  and she wasn’t sure he saw her quite that way. 

Apparently, he did. 

They both went to the foundry after work that night.  Oliver obviously wasn’t going on patrol with his leg in the boot, but he helped her keep an eye on the comms as Dig suited up and went out.  The streets were pretty quiet so by the time Dig made it back, she and Oliver were seeing who could balance a spoon on the end of their nose the longest.  She’d won by a landslide, but mostly because Oliver couldn’t keep still.  Every time he saw her with the spoon on her nose, he’d dissolve into laughter. 

Seeing him laugh was still such a rare thing.  He looked so young and carefree and she was more than glad to look a little silly if that’s what it took to make it happen. 

When they all left, a good two hours before they normally would leave the foundry, Oliver insisted on walking her to her car.  Well, Felicity walked and he hobbled.  He was using a cane now instead of the crutches, having found them awkward and inconvenient.  He wouldn’t listen to her protests that she’d be fine getting to her car on her own and he was better off getting in the car with Dig.  What sort of protection would a crippled vigilante be, anyhow?  He’d glowered at her a little over that but the twinkle in his eye told her that he knew this is what they did.  She teased and poked at him and he pretended to be annoyed or offended.  

It’d taken her four times as long to settle down and go to sleep that night.  As she shifted restlessly between the sheets of her bed, Felicity reminded herself repeatedly not to get her expectations up.  Oliver was probably still in love with Laurel.  That or he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship.  Maybe all he wanted was to go out to dinner and she was an available companion.  Still, she couldn’t help but think this was the culmination of their last week together.  

Her excited mood carried her through to morning.  For once, Felicity was happy to get up with her alarm clock.  Normally, she was the furthest thing from being a morning person, but there was something about the sun shining through the windows of her apartment that had her greeting the day with arms wide open.  She even sang in the shower, letting her voice echo off the tiles as she sung into her bottle of conditioner.  All the songs that came on her iPod were great songs though, and by the time she was toweling off, she felt like she was on top of the world.  

Standing in her closet, Felicity looked over the dresses she’d purchased recently for work, trying to pick out one that she thought might drive Oliver a little crazy.  She finally settled on an emerald green fitted number that exposed a good deal of her back and and ever greater deal of leg as well.  Her black knee-high boots would go great with this dress and she pulled them on.  She decided to leave her hair down and let it curl naturally as it air-dried, helping it along with a couple of scrunches of her fingers. 

Felicity even applied her makeup differently than she normally would, using a darker eyeshadow and a heavier application of eyeliner than she normally would.  It gave her a smokier looking eye and with some bright lipstick, she thought she looked pretty amazing.  She couldn’t wait to see Oliver.  She wanted him to be as off balance and distracted during the day as she was sure to be. 

She spent so much time getting ready that she didn’t have a lot of time to have breakfast.  She ended up fixing a bagel with some cream cheese to eat on her way out the door.  Coffee would have to wait until she got to the office.  Maybe she’d actually make Oliver a cup today.  Wouldn’t _that_ just bowl him over?  Her, delivering him a cup of coffee, in her completely awesome dress and boots?  The more she thought about it, the more she looked forward to doing it.  

Traffic was terrible that morning and all the major roads were clogged with morning commuters.  While she was stopped behind an endless line of cars, Felicity plugged her iPod into her car’s stereo so she could continue listening to the songs she’d been enjoying in the shower.  She sang along, though maybe not as loudly or animatedly as she had before.  Noticing the time on the stereo display, she debated calling in to QC to let them know she might be running a little late.  Who would she call, exactly?  Oliver?  Was he even in the office yet?  If he’d gotten stuck in traffic like she had, chances were he wasn’t there yet either.  

She was anxious to get to work, excited to see Oliver and put her plans for driving him mad into action.  Normally, she wouldn’t even care about being stuck in traffic.  But this was one day that she was anxious to get going.  When the line of cars stopped yet again, she pulled out her cell phone and brought up a navigation app, looking for a viable alternate route that would hopefully have less traffic.  

Felicity found a road nearby that cut over a few streets.  It would take her a bit out of her way but the traffic monitor built into the app told her that the flow of cars was at least moving in that direction.  Preferring to move versus staying still, she waited until the cars in her lane began inching forward again and she began to work her way over to a side street that would lead her to the route she’d found on her app.  

Her heart lightened as she approached the alternate route and saw that the flow of traffic was indeed much quicker.  She even pumped her first as she merged with the other cars and turned up the volume on her iPod.  Despite having lived in Starling City a number of years, she wasn’t very familiar with this road.  She didn’t have much occasion to travel it.  Normally, she didn’t like leaving her well-established routine, but she was in such a good mood this morning that she found herself enjoying the change of scenery.  

Maybe she was enjoying the scenery too much or maybe it was the song she was singing along to or maybe she was just daydreaming about Oliver’s amazingingly clear blue eyes.  Whatever the reason, Felicity didn’t see the garbage truck that ran the red light at the intersection she was passing through.  She didn’t see as it barrelled down on the passenger side of her car without even touching the brakes.  No, Felicity didn’t know about the danger until it was far too late to do anything about it. 

With a sickening metallic crunch and the crystalline sound of shattering glass, her Mini was slammed hard and she was slammed hard inside it.  She didn’t have time to worry about it, however, as her whole world went suddenly black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY! (actually, I'm not sorry at all) I do have a plan now though. I might not have in the beginning but I know where this is going. I'm thinking 2 more chapters? I promise, I'll make it worth it. ;)


	9. The reason that I'm breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity has been in a car accident and Oliver realizes it's time to stop running from what's happening between them.

Felicity wasn’t at her desk when Oliver arrived at QC the morning of their date.  It wasn’t that unusual.  Sometimes she was, most times actually, but sometimes he beat her into the office so he didn’t worry too much about it.  He busied himself with settling down at his desk and going through the emails that had collected for him overnight.  There were a few from investors that he needed to respond to right away.  A few emails asked for detailed earnings reports and he set those aside with a note to ask Felicity for the figures when she got in. 

Isabel ambushed him at one point and he deflected her as best as he could.  She wanted him to clear a spot on his schedule for another meeting with investors and he made a note next to the other note he’d already made for Felicity to work her magic.  After that, it was conference call after conference call with overseas partners and Oliver was reminded again why he hated working in the corporate world.  

He was so busy that he barely had time to look up.  When Dig came striding into his office, he held up a finger as he finished up his phone call before leaning back in his desk chair and exhaling noisily. 

“What’s up, Dig?  I haven’t had time to even _blink_.  What a hell of a morning--” 

“Would you shut up!” Dig snapped, making Oliver sit up straight and look sharply at his friend.  “It’s Felicity!”

A stone settled in Oliver’s stomach.  “What do you mean?  Dig?  What are you talking about?”

The other man’s expression was hard and set in grim lines. “Just got a call from Starling City General.  I’m listed as one of her emergency contacts.”

Oliver was having trouble catching air.  He pushed to his feet, grabbing for his cane.  “What happened?” 

“Car accident on the way to work.  The car is already out front, I just came up to get you since you weren’t answering your cell.”  Dig held a hand out, not so much to help him as to gesture him forwards.  

Together, they hurried to the executive elevator.  Oliver’s mind was a static buzz and all he could hear over and over was “car accident”.  Oh, God.  As the elevator car sped towards the lobby, he had to brace himself against the wall and try to collect himself.  He didn’t think he’d been this scared since he’d left the island.  With a shaking hand, he pulled his cell out of his trouser pocket.  He’d silenced it earlier when it’d rung during one of his conference calls.  Wincing, he noticed several missed calls from the hospital as well as from Dig.  A familiar sensation of guilt settled over his shoulders.  

He made it out of the elevator and across the lobby to the doors of the building, ignoring whoever that was that just called his name.  He was focused on the Bentley out front and Dig already standing at the open door, an impatient grimace on his face.  His best friend and teammate was clearly upset and worried too.  Seeing that and knowing it helped settle him at least enough that he was able to make it out the doors and into the back of the car.  

Dig was behind the wheel and rocketing towards the hospital in moments. “What have you heard, Dig?” Oliver ground out, his hands fisted on the leather seats next to him.  

“Just that there was an accident.  Got t-boned by a garbage truck at an intersection on her way in to work,” Dig replied tersely.  

Fuck, _a garbage truck_.  Oliver let his eyes slide closed at the mental image that presented.  And he hadn’t even had a chance to tell her...  

“Please hurry, Dig,” he said in a low voice and the other man depressed the gas pedal even further.

“She’ll be fine, Oliver,” Dig told him.  “Our Felicity is a fighter.”

They arrived at the hospital much quicker than he had any right to expect, but Oliver still felt his fingers digging impatiently into the seat anytime they had to wait for a traffic light or got stuck behind a slower vehicle.  He barely waited for Dig to stop the Bentley before he was grabbing for the door handle and launching himself out, barely remembering to grab his cane on his way.  Dig was right behind him, and together they stormed through the double sliding doors of the hospital.  

His first instinct was to tear into the nurse at the desk when she didn’t immediately jump to help him when he demanded to know where Felicity was.  It was only Dig’s hand on his arm that had him biting his tongue and stepping back.  His friend took over, asking about Felicity in a far calmer voice than he himself could have managed.  Oliver wanted to start barging into rooms and calling Felicity’s name until he found her.  They were told that she was being moved out of the trauma ward.  When the nurse gestured down one of the hallways, both men took off again. 

Up ahead, a gurney was being pushed out of a room and down the hall towards a bank of elevators.  Dig ran ahead while Oliver struggled to catch up.  He was leaning heavily on his cane now, his leg aching from the activity.  When he arrived at the elevators and his breath caught to see Felicity in the bed.  She looked small in the bed, pale and fragile, and it made his heart pound painfully in his chest.  

They were asked who they were immediately and Oliver explained that they were Felicity’s friends and co-workers as well as her emergency contacts.  That was apparently the right thing to say because they were allowed to ride up with them in the elevator. 

“What’s wrong with her?  What happened?” Dig asked.  Oliver thought maybe he should have asked that, but he was having a hard time taking his eyes off Felicity’s face.  She looked peaceful, but almost too peaceful.  There was a cut on her forehead that had been sutured closed.  He saw a scrape on her chin surrounded by some dark bruising, the rest of her skin standing out pale around the injuries.  

“According to the police report, the garbage truck that hit her ran a red light at an intersection.  However, a couple things worked in her favor.  Neither vehicle was traveling at high speeds and she never saw the truck coming.  That means she had no chance to tense up her body and was therefore able to remain lose at the moment of impact.  I believe that lessened her injuries substantially,” the doctor at her shoulder told them.  

“She’s currently stable and I believe her injuries aren’t life threatening.  We’re going to run some scans and tests to be on the safe side and check for internal injuries and I imagine we’ll want to keep her for a few days to be on the safe side.  She has some severe bruising on her hip and ribs from being slammed into the car door, one of her knees looks mildly bruised as well.  Her shoulder was dislocated when they brought her in and we’ve since reset it, which is when she lost consciousness again.  The tests will tell us more, but I imagine she’s going to be laid up for a few days and feeling pretty sore.”

“Thanks, doctor,” Oliver murmured, his eyes still on Felicity’s face.  

They followed her as she was wheeled into a room.  Oliver looked around, noting the two other occupants and pulled the nurse aside.  “Are there any private rooms available in this ward?” he asked.  

She checked a clipboard, lips pursed.  “Yes, there are.  But we can’t move her, her insurance only covers semi-private... ”

“I will cover the cost,” he said quickly.  

A few moments later, she was moved into a room very much like the one he’d been in just a week before.  A chair was moved over next to her bed and Oliver sank gratefully into it, letting his booted leg stretch out before him.  

As soon as the nurses and doctor left, Dig raised his eyebrows at him and Oliver shrugged.  “I feel helpless Dig, getting her moved to a nicer room is about the only thing I _can_ do for her right now,” he explained. 

“That’s not true.  You can be here for her, like she was for you,” Dig pointed out. 

Oliver clenched his jaw and looked again at Felicity. “I’m not planning to go anywhere.”

***

The next thing Felicity knew was warmth.  She was covered in heavy warmth, from her toes up to her neck.  There was another warm, enveloping presence on her right hand.  It was a large, warm hand, holding hers, the thumb rubbing circles gently into the skin on the backside.  

After that, she was aware of _thirst_.  It felt like her mouth had been swabbed out with cotton.  Blinking her eyes open, she saw blurry but distinct forms.  Oliver was the first she recognised, sitting next to her, thumbing through something on his cell phone.  He was the one holding her hand.  She realised she must not have her glasses on. 

“Oliver?” she asked and her voice was rasping roughly from disuse.  

His head whipped around and his gaze met hers.  “You’re awake,” he breathed, sounding relieved.  

“What happened?” she asked, shifting restlessly and gasping when pain shot down her left side.  Oliver released her hand and was leaning over, working the controls of her bed so she could sit up a little.  A hospital bed.  She must be in the hospital. 

“Does that feel okay?”  He handed her her glasses, which he’d apparently had tucked in his pocket.  

She nodded as she put them on, his face coming into beautiful focus at last. 

Sighing, he sat back in his chair.  “You were hit by a truck, Felicity,” he told her and she inhaled sharply.  Oliver went on to detail her injuries, at least as they were known.  He also mentioned that Dig had come with him but had left a little while ago.   “And I was told to alert the nurse when you woke so they could take you off for scans and tests to make sure there’s nothing more serious going on.”  

He pressed the “call nurse” button and Felicity’s head swam.  “Does this mean I’m going to miss our date?” she asked, at a loss. 

Oliver chuckled.  “I’m afraid so.”

That bothered her a lot more than it should have.  She battled back disappointment as she forced a smile.  “Dammit.  I had the perfect dress picked out and everything.”  She paused and looked down at the hospital gown she wore.  “Guess that’s long gone.”

“I’m sure it was beautiful,” he murmured.  Leaning forward, he brought his hand up to gently stroke his fingers down her jaw.  “I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

Felicity opened her mouth to reply, not knowing what she might say, but was interrupted by a nurse and a couple of orderlies who entered the room to take her to her tests.  

“Will you be here when I get back?” she asked as she was transferred carefully to a gurney.  The nurse busied herself, tucking the heavy, warm blankets around her. 

Oliver nodded and reached out for her extended hand, giving it a squeeze.  “I promise,” he said earnestly.  The breathtaking look in his eyes as she was wheeled out stayed with her as she was taken away to be poked, prodded and generally treated like a science experiment. 

No one told her anything during any of the tests and she determined that these technicians must be the best poker players in all of Starling City because they had zero tells.  

It felt like a hundred years before they brought her back to her room, which she now noticed was one of the upgraded rooms like Oliver had stayed in last week.  She blushed, realising he’d probably been the one to make that happen.  

Then, she noticed that the room looked a bit different.  The lights had been dimmed, a lamp next to the hospital bed was on instead of the fluorescent overhead light and a few candles were set up on the windowsill, but not lit.  Roses sat in vases on nearly every available surface.  On a table near the windows were several covered plates.  Immediately, her eyes sought out Oliver’s. 

He was standing, leaning a little awkwardly on his cane, next to her hospital bed, and he smiled at her as she was wheeled in and transferred.  As soon as she was settled, he leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to her forehead.  

“Everything go okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah, just peachy if you like being a pin cushion,” she remarked.  “What’s all this?”

“You couldn’t make it to our date tonight,” he said.  “I thought I’d bring our date to you, instead.”

A delicious shiver worked down her spine.  No one had ever done anything like this for her.  It was just so blatantly...  romantic.  It took her breath away as she stared at the vase of roses next to her bedside.   _Okay, Smoak, this is pretty smooth_.  

“Well?” he prompted and the poor guy was starting to look a little nervous. 

She smiled at him and reached out for his hand. He dropped into the chair next to her bed and grabbed her hand in his, holding tightly.  “I can’t believe you did all of this for me,” she told him. 

A line appeared between his eyes signaling his confusion.  “Why wouldn’t I?  I wanted to make you smile.”

“This is definitely doing the trick,” she assured him, grinning. 

The doctor swept into the room then to go over her tests.  There had been some concern that her lung had been punctured or perforated or some other p-word that Felicity didn’t quite catch.  Luckily, it hadn’t been the case.  Her injuries were, luckily, mostly superficial.  She did have a concussion that looked a little concerning so they definitely wanted to keep her through the night but if nothing else cropped up, she’d be able to return home the next day.  She expelled a grateful breath upon hearing that; staying in the hospital wasn’t high on her list of things she was wanting to do.  It was bad enough she had to stay the night. 

Before the doctor left, her eyes slid over to the covered plates on the table.  “I’m going to pretend I don’t see that,” she said, pointing at them with the tip of her pen. 

Felicity blushed but Oliver just grinned and thanked her.  

Once they were alone, Oliver brought a plate over and set it on the swing-out table before pulling it over her lap.  She sat up with the aid of the bed controls and watched as Oliver removed the cover.  Underneath was a bowl of steaming soup, a pale orange with an amazing scent.  

“Lobster bisque,” he explained. “You’re not allergic to shellfish, are you?”

Felicity’s mouth watered as she inhaled.  “No, and thank god for that.  I love the little shrimps too much.”

Oliver chuckled.  He brought his own covered plate over to the chair and sat next to her, setting it on the table as he got settled and his cane set aside.  He didn’t have bisque, but rather a lobster tail and filet mignon on his plate.  When he saw her notice, he was quick to explain.  “I thought we could share.”  

The idea charmed her as she dipped her spoon into the creamy soup and drew it up, being careful for drips, and she held it out for him.  He quirked an eyebrow before leaning forward and opening his mouth, letting her slide the spoon past his lips.  

He made a noise of deep satisfaction that had her blushing as she pulled her spoon back. Dipping the spoon back into the soup, she took a taste for herself.  Then, she understood.  It was magnificent.  “Oh my god,” she moaned.  “This is the best soup I’ve ever had.  And that’s saying quite a bit, cuz my nan’s chicken noodle is the sort of soup that men write songs about.”

“See? I know what I’m doing,” he told her with a wink. 

They continued to eat, sharing the food.  Sometimes he fed her, sometimes she fed him, but most times they fed themselves.  They talked as they ate and didn’t discuss her accident or what had happened with Sara or anything Arrow related at all.  He asked her about her family and she asked about his life before the island.  It was the first time she could ever remember them having a talk like this, like they were just friends or on an actual date and just getting to know one another.  It was...  nice.  

When they were finished, she pushed her plate back and sighed contentedly.  “What’s for dessert?” she asked jokingly. 

“I have the city’s best molten chocolate cake waiting for you,” Oliver told her.  

“Seriously?  I was kidding!  Oh my god, that sounds amazing.  But I can’t eat another bite,” she said with no small amount of regret. 

“We can have that later after we’ve digested some,” he assured her, settling back in his chair and stretching his boot out in front of him. 

“How’s your leg doing?” she asked. 

“It’s a little sore,” he admitted with a shrug. “I should take some ibuprofen.  I think I got more of a workout today than I have been lately.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  I have to start physical therapy soon anyhow, this is just getting me prepared for that,” he teased. 

Felicity found the controls for the television and turned it on, finding a sitcom that they both agreed on and they watched while making cracks about the actors and the storyline.  Once again, they fell into an easy rhythm with one another and she found herself almost overcome with how glad she was that Oliver was here with her.   He’d chosen to stay here with her.  That had to mean something, didn’t it?

After a few episodes (it turned out the cable channel was doing a mini-marathon), they both decided they were ready for the molten chocolate cake.  Oliver picked up a final covered plate from the other table and put it on the table that was positioned over her lap.  He removed the cover to reveal a most decadent looking slice of cake, dark chocolate oozing out of the center.  He handed her a fork and waggled his brows.  

“Are you ready for this?” he asked her, his tone playful. 

“I have to be _ready for it_?” she fired back.  “I thought I was ready, now I’m kinda scared.”

“You’ll love this,” Oliver promised. “It’s better than sex.”

Felicity’s eyebrows both shot up and she very nearly bobbled the bite of cake on her fork as she brought it up to her mouth. Instead, she choked out a laugh.  “You have that on good authority?” 

He smirked as he took a bite, and then his eyes rolled back into his head dramatically.  He swallowed and then made a big show of licking his fork.  “The _best_ authority.”

She lifted her fork again, considering the bite critically.  Oliver’s eyes were dancing as he watched her.  After debating the merits of teasing him a little, the scent of the dark chocolate got to her.  She’d never been the sort that could deny herself good chocolate when it was available so she took the bite into her mouth. 

The flavor washed over her tongue and was just sharp enough to excite her tastebuds before the velvety smoothness of the chocolate won over...  Wait, had that moan come from her?  Felicity’s eyes snapped open to see Oliver watching her.  He wasn’t grinning anymore and his blue eyes had darkened to cobalt.  He seemed to be staring at her mouth and she swallowed reflexively.  The look on his face was...  hungry.  And not for molten chocolate cake, either.  

“Oliver?” she asked.  The sound of her voice seemed to snap him out of his stupor a bit. 

“So?  What’s the verdict?”  He saw her confused look and smiled.  “The cake.”

“Oh!”  Felicity fought a blush. “It’s pretty tasty.  But better than sex? I don’t know...  I think it depends on the sex.”  She cringed, realizing how that sounded and knowing that’s also exactly what she’d meant when she said it.  Daring a glance at Oliver, she was surprised to see him neither looking embarrassed nor on the edge of laughter, as he normally was when she made a flub.  No, if anything, his eyes had darkened further.  

He pushed the table away and scooted closer to her, taking her hand in his again.  “Felicity, I realised something today,” he said.  “This last week has been, well, it should have been miserable.  Being cooped up and immobilised has never been something I’ve dealt with very well.  But you made it special, somehow.  You were there for me and made it better.  I started to think that maybe, you and I could be...  well, I’ve tried to push thoughts like that aside for a while now.

“It’s been getting harder to do that this last week.  Because everything with you and I has been so _right_.  And then this morning...  when Dig told me you’d been in an accident, it was like nothing I’d ever felt before.  It wasn’t good.  I was so scared.  I thought...  I thought I wouldn’t get a chance to tell you,” he finished on a whisper.  

Felicity could scarcely believe what she was hearing.  She reached out with her other hand, the one not currently caught in a death grip with his, and touched his cheek.  He leaned into her touch.  “Tell me what?” she asked softly, thinking she already knew but knowing he needed to work through it.  And, frankly, she needed to hear it. 

“That I’m falling in love with you.  I have been for a while now,” he murmured.  “I didn’t realize it at first.  Then, I tried to fight it.  But now I know.  I can’t be _me_ without you.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and as she let out happy laugh, one escaped, rolling down her cheek.  Oliver captured it with his thumb.  

“Oh, Oliver.  I love you, too.  I can’t help it, I do,” she replied.  

Felicity barely had a chance to glimpse the shine in Oliver’s blue eyes as he leaned in and captured her lips with his.  He smelled amazing, like spice and warmth, he tasted like dark, decadent chocolate, and his hand now cupped her jaw gently, holding her in place.  His lips moved over hers, warm and strong, coaxing her response out of her.  As her heart pounded and the blood rushed through her veins, Felicity knew that any doubts she’d had before about a relationship with Oliver were nothing against the power of what they could have together.  Especially if he kept kissing her just like this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for being patient! I left you on an awful cliffhanger and then took so long getting the update to you! Bad writer! This isn't the last chapter, there's one more and the rating WILL increase for that chapter so if sexy-times aren't your thing, you can safely avoid it and just assume, instead, that after Oliver and Felicity recovered from their respective injuries that they exchanged a firm handshake instead. ;) 
> 
> Hopefully you won't have to wait QUITE so long for that chapter!


	10. My heart is yours to keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity is a little frustrated with the pace of her relationship with Oliver in the weeks following her accident.

The weeks that followed passed slowly.  Frustratingly so.  Oliver went to physical therapy appointments every day, working his leg as it healed and regaining strength and mobility.  Felicity had a lot of healing to do as well, and while she enjoyed the way Oliver doted on her, she was getting tired of being treated like she was made of spun glass. 

Since her accident, she and Oliver had been slowly developing their relationship.  Emphasis on _slowly_.  Many nights were spent either at her apartment or at the Queen mansion.  There’d been nothing more than kissing between them, however, and perhaps a little over-the-clothes touching.  Okay, a _lot_ of touching.  Frustration was the order of the day, lately.  But there was an unspoken agreement between them that they would not take things further until they were both more healed. 

It made a lot of sense, on the surface.  Felicity definitely wanted to be able to enjoy the experience without worrying about hurting herself or him. Lucky for Oliver, he seemed to have almost preternatural healing abilities. His gunshot wound healed first and even his leg and ankle made amazing progress.  A lot of that was due to his physical therapy appointments, she knew.  

Felicity had healed a bit slower.  Her shoulder still sometimes ached from where it had dislocated and her ribs had been sore for weeks.  It even took her bruises a long time to fade and she was so happy when they did because the dark look on Oliver’s face when he saw them made her feel terrible.  Even though the accident wasn’t his fault and he knew this, she knew he hated to see her hurt.  She knew this because she hated to see him hurt just as much. 

For the first time in nearly two months, she felt like herself again.  Sharp intakes of air didn’t cause pain to lance through her side, picking up just about _anything_ didn’t make her shoulder twinge and she hadn’t had to pop any ibuprofen in days now.  It was safe to say, then, that she was healed.  Now if only she could get _him_ to see that.  

It wasn’t that the kissing wasn’t nice; Felicity knew she could spend hours kissing Oliver.  Skill was only part of it, though he definitely had that.  His lips knew the exact pressure to exert, his tongue knew just how to swirl with hers to make her knees go weak. Being so close to him, feeling his muscles pressed against her, the scratch of his stubble beneath her fingertips, was something that Felicity wasn’t sure she’d ever be completely used to.  Sometimes he was soft and tender and loving and other times he was passionate and strong and demanding.  She would be hard pressed to say which she enjoyed more.  

As wonderful as the kissing was, she was ready to move to the next level. _More_ than ready. 

The only thing stopping her from getting up from behind her bank of computers in the foundry, marching across the mats to where Oliver was sparring with Dig, grabbing him by his sweaty shoulders and pushing him down to the floor was the thought that maybe he wasn’t quite as ready as she was. After all, she knew he was feeling good as new and she was as well but he hadn’t done anymore than kiss her goodnight the last few days.  Whereas before, he would come home with her after their night at the foundry or she might come home with him and they might not do more than sleep in each other’s arms; the last few days he had sent her on home alone.  Maybe he was rethinking their relationship.  She couldn’t help but worry that it was a reflection on her. 

After all, it wasn’t as though she was Oliver’s type.  As much as she got along with his family, both Thea and Moira had been clearly surprised when Oliver had told them they were dating now.  Still, surprised didn’t mean standoffish, and Thea had made no secret of the fact that she wanted to take Felicity under her wing.  There’d been more than a few trips to the mall and girl’s nights out lately.  Oliver had seemed a little put out by it, the girl’s nights out especially, but Thea had told him to relax and that she’d make sure Felicity didn’t overexert herself.  And, Felicity had to admit, she had fun hanging out with the younger Queen.  Thea was a hoot and kept her on her toes. 

For now, Felicity sat back in her chair while the computers ran their updates and watched the two men grappling on the mats.  Dig had a tank on, but Oliver was shirtless.  Either way, it was an impressive display of arm muscles and she found her mouth going dry a bit at the sight.  But then she noticed the time and heaved a sigh.  She was going to need to get home and to bed soon or else she’d be a zombie at QC the next morning. 

Sighing, she got up from her chair.  Neither of the guys even seemed to be aware she was there as they growled and taunted one another.  Dig looked as though maybe he was taking it easy on Oliver because of his healing leg and so far, Oliver was definitely taking advantage of that.  She stood by the mats with her arms crossed, waiting for them to see her.  When they didn’t, she cleared her throat. 

Instantly, both men stilled and looked at her. “Yes?” Dig prompted, breathing hard. 

“Well, since I’m just sitting here twiddling my thumbs and no one is interested in twiddling _me,_ I’m just going to be heading home now,” she said, unable to keep the snarky remark to herself.

Oliver’s forehead creased further in confusion while Dig’s smoothed out.  “Wait, what?” Oliver asked. 

“I’m going home,” she said flatly, fixing him with a pointed look. 

“Oh!  Do you need me to give you a ride?” he asked, and did he look a little disappointed?  She was probably imagining it. 

“No, I have my car here,” she said.  He made no move towards her, to give her a kiss goodbye or even a hug.  Felicity sighed heavily.  “Alright, I’m going.  See you both tomorrow.”

 She turned and left, walking up the steps and out to where she’d parked her car.  Looked like it was just going to be her and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s tonight.  What was it going to take to get Oliver to make the next move? 

***

“What the hell was that about?” Oliver asked as Felicity disappeared up the stairs.  Dig was chuckling as he pulled his hoodie on.  

“Man, you really have no clue, do you?”

He turned to face Dig and noticed the smug, amused expression on the other man’s face.  Oliver’s glower deepened.  “Are you going to be an asshole about it or are you going to fill me in?”

He stalked over to where his own hoodie lay draped across the back of a chair and slid it on, zipping it up.  Then he turned back to Dig and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.  His friend shook his head, still looking amused. 

“Listen, I don’t want to know what you two get up to but it sounds like Felicity is feeling a little... ignored.”

Oliver gaped, scrambling for a response that would sound coherent.  “She is not _ignored_ ,” he finally insisted, sounding indignant.  

“But you and her haven’t...” Dig trailed off, gesturing before he continued, “yet?”

Now, he grimaced.  “No, not that it’s any of your business.  We haven’t.  We both had some pretty bad injuries to recover from.” 

“And aren’t you recovered now?  Both of you?”

“Yes, but...”

“But? What’s the problem then?”

Oliver collapsed into a chair with a frustrated huff.  Dig leaned against the table, watching him expectantly.  It was clear he wasn’t going to drop the subject now that he had him cornered.  “I’m scared, okay?  Is that what you want to hear?”

“Is it the truth?”  Dig eyed him and when Oliver didn’t reply, he continued, “What on earth do you have to be scared of?  It’s Felicity!  I’ve seen the way she looks at you, I’m pretty sure she’ll say yes.”

“That’s just it, Dig,” he growled out, frustrated. “It’s Felicity.  She’s... different.”  

“Different?”  

“Important.  I just... don’t want to screw things up with her. I want it to be right and good. I want her to...” He cut himself off when he saw Dig’s horrified expression.  “I just want to do right by her.”

“Oliver, relax. Like I said, it’s Felicity.  She cares about you and you care about her. That will be enough for it to be...”  He paused and cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortable again.  “Right.”

Oliver fidgeted a little, looking down at his fingernails as he did so.  He knew Dig was right.  And it was silly to put this off especially when Felicity was expecting things to be a certain way between them.  The thought that he might be _hurting her_ by avoiding the issue caused his heart to seize up with panic.  He couldn’t have that.  

“She’s upset with me, isn’t she?”

Dig nodded.  “Oh yes.  That was definitely her annoyed face.”

“How do I fix it?” he asked, turning pleading eyes on his friend.  Dig smiled and chuckled, pulling up another chair and sitting down next to him. 

“Alright, loverboy.  Here’s what you do,” he began. Oliver prepared to listen raptly, for once very interested to hear his partner’s advice.  

***

Felicity let herself into her apartment with a heavy sigh.  She wished she knew why Oliver was walking on tenterhooks with her right now.  She wished she knew a good way to let him know that he didn’t have to.  A heavy conversation was something she’d been trying to avoid having with him, but it looked as though she was going to have to bring it up.  

She set her purse down on the table next to the door and walked back to her bedroom to get changed out of the clothes she’d been wearing since she’d gone into the QC offices that morning.  There were some super-soft flannel pajama shorts and an even softer tank top with her name on them waiting for her under her pillow on her bed.  Methodically, she changed out of the dress she’d been wearing, hanging it carefully back in her closet and arranging her heels (which had cost her more than the dress itself!) on the floor next to the other pairs she’d purchased after becoming Oliver’s EA. 

She strode out of the bedroom in her underwear and bra, rolling her shoulders and reaching up to remove the elastic that held her hair up in her customary ponytail.  Fluffing her hair around her shoulders, she reached under her pillow for her pajamas and slipped on the familiar, comfortable garments before padding back into the living room.  Maybe she’d continue with her “Doctor Who” rewatch before bed.  Or she could start the next season of “Suits”.  There was something about the dynamic between that one guy and his secretary that she enjoyed.  

Felicity was still deciding as she curled up on the sofa, tucking her feet under her, when she heard a soft noise at the windows that opened onto her fire escape.  Her heart leapt into her throat before she looked closer and saw the distinctive shape of Oliver, perched on her fire escape just outside the window.  He was rapping softly on the window, trying to get her attention. 

She got up from the sofa and crossed to the window, undoing the latch, throwing up the sash and standing back as he climbed in.  “You scared me half to death!” she chastised him.  “Why didn’t you just come up the elevator like a normal person?” 

“I didn’t feel like dealing with the doorman,” Oliver told her with a shrug.  He wasn’t in his Arrow gear; he wore a pair of faded jeans with a v-neck sweater, but she knew he was nervous of her doorman.  Gerald had been working at this building for probably close to thirty years now and he was a tough nut to crack.  He’d taken Felicity under his wing when she’d moved in and tended to be a bit protective, especially in light of the fact she didn’t really have any family to watch over her.  

She fought a smile as she returned to the sofa and resumed her position.  “What are you doing here?” she asked, remembering that she was supposed to annoyed with him.

“You were upset with me when you left the foundry,” he said.  He stood next to the sofa, looking undecided as to whether he should sit or stand.  She gestured at the space next to her on the sofa, if only so she could avoid getting a crick in her neck from looking up at him. 

“I’m _still_ upset with you,” she grumbled. “Do you at least know why or do I have to draw you a picture?” 

Oliver sighed heavily.  “Yeah, Dig filled me in.”

Felicity cringed.  She hated to bring Dig into all of this and she knew he probably hated it even more than she did.  Maybe she’d bake him some cookies or cupcakes or something to try to make it up to him.  She continued to sit quietly, studying her hands where she fidgeted with them in her lap.  The ball was solidly in his court and she didn’t feel like making this any easier for him.  

“I’m sorry, Felicity.  I know I’ve been avoiding you,” he said, his voice soft.  “Its not your fault, its mine.  I’ve been... scared.”

That surprised her and she looked up sharply, meeting his steady, blue gaze.  Her confusion must have been evident on her face because he continued, “I may have been with a lot of women, but I’ve never had a situation like _this_ before.  The closest was Laurel, but I was so young with her, we both were, and it was just different.  With you, this is bigger somehow.  I don’t want to mess up or scare you but, it feels like... the rest of my life.”

All the air left her as she stared at him.  Was he saying what she thought he was saying?  “Oliver,” she breathed. 

“I don’t want to push,” he was quick to add.  “I just want you to know that this isn’t casual for me.  I’m nervous about taking this next step with you because I know that once we do this, I’ll be done for.  You’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

She turned to face him fully.  “You’re assuming that I’d ever want to.  Oliver, I’m in just as deep as you are.  I’m nervous too, but more than that, I just want to be with you.” 

Oliver’s clear blue eyes darkened as his gaze drifted down to her mouth.  She felt a flush creep over her as awareness began to spread.  “I want to be with you too,” he told her, his voice rough.  “You have no idea how much.”

She licked at her lips, her nerves giving away to need.  “Then what are you doing sitting all the way over there?” she asked, sounding far more bold than she actually felt. 

There was the span of a heartbeat where Oliver just stared at her, his eyes impossibly dark, his jaw slack and his shoulders tense.  And then he was on her, surrounding her, just as she’d hoped he would be. 

They’d made out plenty of times in the weeks since her accident in plenty of different locations.  On the sofa at his mansion, in the elevator at QC, in the backseat of the Bentley (much to Dig’s chagrin), in the foundry and here on this sofa in her own living room.  But those clinches had nothing on the way Oliver moved over her now.  

He kissed her with intent, his lips slanted over hers, his tongue already plunging past her lips and dipping into her mouth to slide against hers.  The woodsy scent of his cologne filled her senses as she wrapped her arms around his back holding him against her as she shifted herself beneath him.  Felicity opened for him, cradling his hips with her thighs as he settled over her, his mouth still furiously working hers. 

But he didn’t seem to be moving towards anything more than just making out, just like all the other times things had heat up between them lately.  She was beyond frustrated now and completely unwilling to let this just become another marathon make out session.  Pushing against his chest with her hands, he moved back off of her.  Felicity caught a glimpse of his confused expression as she was quick to follow after him.  She took the initiative, pushing back and straddling his narrow waist as he fell back against the other side of the sofa.  It was time to push the issue. 

She sat back, enjoying the thunderstruck expression on his face.  His lips were swollen with her kisses, his eyes dark and wide as he watched her reach up and pull her glasses off, folding them and leaning over to set them on the coffee table.  Oliver watched her every movement, licking at his lips and all but radiating anticipation.  Then, she grabbed the hem of her tank top.  Before she could let her nerves get the better of her, she whipped off the top in one fluid movement.  She tossed it carelessly over her shoulder and forced her gaze to meet his, hoping she saw encouragement from him. 

Encouragement was probably too mild a word for what she saw.  He stared at her as though he couldn’t believe what was happening.  Oh yes, he definitely was interested.  His eyes left hers, traveling down and pausing at her breasts.  He’d felt them before during some of their clinches, but he’d never actually seen her without her top or at the very least, her bra.  His adam’s apple bobbed as his hands traveled up her sides from where they’d been lightly resting on her hips.  His thumbs caressed her skin, pressing in where her curves dipped, coming to a rest at the undersides of her breasts.  She shivered in reaction. 

Felicity met his eyes again, resting her hands against the firm muscles of his shoulders and leaning in close so that her nose brushed alongside his.  “No excuses. No interruptions.”  Oliver didn’t reply but his eyes didn’t leave hers.  He tilted his head ever so slightly, his nose bumping hers, his lips just barely brushing hers.  His agreement was clear.  

She closed the distance between them, pressing her lips against his, pulling back and then returning again.  She nipped at his bottom lip, her tongue flicking out and he opened with a groan at her wordless request.  As their tongues tangled together, she felt his shoulders relax underneath her hands as he gave over to what was already happening.  

But Felicity didn’t want him to back off again, like he had so many times already.  She wanted to make sure he’d see this through. She wanted to watch Oliver Queen lose his famous control.  Taking control of the kiss, she pressed forward again, squirming on his lap as she reached for the hem of his sweater.  Unlike with her tank top, she took her time pulling the fabric up over his abs, letting her fingers drag against the muscles there and enjoying the way they contracted under her touch. 

As soon as she pulled the sweater over his head, she returned her hands to his chest, brushing her thumbs over his nipples and enjoying how his breath hitched.  She kissed him again, meaning to keep the contact sweet and languorous.  But Oliver had other ideas and he quickly took control of the kiss, his lips devouring hers with urgency.  

Suddenly, he stood up, taking her with him. He swept her easily into his arms, as though she weighed virtually nothing.  Felicity gasped automatically, grabbing at his shoulders for stability as he strode towards her bedroom.  His chuckle rumbled through his chest.  

“That sofa isn’t large enough,” Oliver told her.  “I’m a big guy, I need more room.”

She swallowed reflexively at the underlying implication to his words.  He strode into her room and set her on the floor next to her bed.  She stood on wobbly knees as she watched him.  Shirtless, his chest rising and falling with his breaths, he looked magnificent as he watched her.  He was doing a similar perusal of her, lifting his hands to cup her breasts and softly stroke the flesh there.  Felicity fought a shiver as her embarrassment gave way to arousal.  

He was gorgeous, all hard lines and rippling muscles and hot flesh.  Felicity was used to his scars by now, accepting them as a part of who he was, as reminders of what happened on the island to change him.  She didn’t know who he was before, what kind of man he was, but she’d seen the stories online and had a pretty good idea.  He was drifting through life with nothing to anchor him and now he had purpose.  To her way of thinking, his scars were a symbol of that just as much as they represented the torture he’d been through. 

Felicity lifted her eyes and met his gaze.  Without looking away, she reached down for the button of his jeans.  He kept watching her as she pulled the zip down and began to tug at the waistband, urging the soft denim to slide down his thighs and pool at his feet.  With a hand firm on her hip, he toed off his shoes and kicked the jeans aside and he was left standing in his black boxer briefs.  Save for that episode in the bathtub, it was as little as she’d ever seen him wearing and she began to feel a little giddy from it. 

As though he sensed her hesitation, he stepped even closer to her, leaning down to press kisses along the column of her neck while he reached for her pajama shorts and pushed them down, running his hands over the curves of her rear and kneading gently.   Now they stood before one another, each in just their underwear, and at the moment it felt like even those paltry garments were far too much.  This was finally happening. 

***

Oliver was quickly becoming overwhelmed as he pulled back a little and took a moment to appreciate the sight of Felicity’s curves, illuminated in the glow from the city lights that poured through the windows in her bedroom.  He tried to absorb as much as he could, to notice everything, and he was brought out of his reverie by the feel of her fingers, digging into his hips where her hands were resting. 

Their eyes met again and he both noticed and thrilled at the way Felicity’s blue eyes were hazed and darkened with lust.  He’d done that, brought forth those feelings in her.  The knowledge of that stirred a possessive sort of pull in him and Oliver knew that he was through holding off and denying himself what he desired.  He wanted her and everything that she could share with him.  And he wanted it _now_. 

Swooping down, he captured her lips in a deep kiss, increasing the pressure of his lips on hers until her lips parted on a moan.  He slipped his tongue past her lips, deepening the kiss and answering her moan with a groan of his own as the sensation of her body melting against his wrested the last of his control away from his grasp. 

Oliver wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight against him, feeling her pebbled nipples against the hardened muscles of his chest.  His passion was stoked higher and higher as she kissed him back just as desperately as he kissed her, her fingernails scraping through his cropped hair.  The floodgates were open, there was no going back. 

He moved his hands down, slowly but purposefully, squeezing her delicious round bottom with both hands.  He’d admired her ass for the last year and had always fantasized about cupping the firm mounds and holding her like this.  He pushed his hips forward, pressing his aching erection against her core and enjoying the whimper she sounded against his mouth.  He pulled his lips from hers, drawing them across her cheek and over to the shell of her ear. 

Oliver nibbled on the soft flesh there and when he felt her sag against him, he used her pliancy to his advantage and pushed her back onto the bed, quickly climbing over her.  Over the past weeks, he’d had plenty of time to think about what he wanted this night to be like.  He’d made plans, plans involving driving Felicity to the brink over and over before finally letting her tumble.  But here in the moment, he feared he’d waited so long that he knew he couldn’t hold out that long.  He had to have her and he might just go mad if he didn’t.  

There’d be time for exploration and teasing later. 

He moved down her body, drawing her underwear down her smooth legs as he pressed kisses along her waist, her hip, her leg, the back of her knee and finally the top of her foot before tossing the scrap of satin and lace over his shoulder and grinning at her.  She smiled at him, but it was tremulous and he knew she wasn’t interested in waiting any longer either.  Quickly, Oliver shucked his own underwear and while he did that, Felicity twisted beneath him to reach into the drawer of her nightstand.  

He didn’t know what to think about that, that she had condoms at the ready in her nightstand drawer.  Rather than focus on it, however, he chose to believe that she’d recently stocked it in hopes of a scenario just like this unfolding.  

Then, he wasn’t thinking anything at all, because Felicity was pushing back on his shoulder and making him sit up before taking his throbbing erection in her hand.  She stroked firmly, a few times, enough to make him see stars, before tearing open the packet with her teeth and unrolling the latex onto his length.  Her confidence, he found, turned him on in a way he hadn’t expected.  

But he’d already decided; it was his turn now.  He pushed back against her, causing her to fall back to the bed.  Kissing her again, he reached down to line up his cock with her entrance.  She tilted her hips a little, letting her wet folds rub against him and making him shudder.  Groaning, he pushed in on a hard thrust.  Her tight walls clenched down and held him as he buried himself fully in her wonderful wet warmth.  He kissed down her neck, pausing to suckle and nibble at the junction with her shoulder as he tried to gather the frayed shreds of his control back together. 

“Felicity,” he murmured as he began to move his hips against her, slowly and purposefully.  She was holding him so tightly, he could feel her short nails digging into the flesh of his back.  

She arched against him, drawing her legs up and hooking them around his waist, changing the angle and he found he was hitting a new spot within her.  A very good spot, judging from the pitch and volume of her cries.  Felicity began to tremble beneath him and all around him and that was his undoing.  His control snapped spectacularly as his hips plunged into hers, the wet sounds of their coupling echoing throughout the room.  Those were soon drowned out by their passion-roughened voices as they cried out to one another. 

Oliver could feel his climax approaching and he fought to stave it off, wanting to tumble over that edge with her.  He reached between them, his fingers fumbling for the place where they were joined together.  He paused a moment, letting his fingers map the slide of his cock in and out of her center, groaning at the perfect slide of it.  Then, he inched his fingers up her slit until he felt the hardened bundle of nerves that he knew was the key to her orgasm. 

Felicity cried out louder, his name a gasp on her lips as he rubbed his thumb over her clit.  He drew back so he could watch as she shook apart and he wanted to memorize the rapturous look on her face, but the tight squeezing on his cock finally pulled him over the edge and he came with a hoarse cry that he tried to muffle into her shoulder.   

Oliver let himself rest atop her for a moment, straining to catch his breath and calm the thundering of his heart.  He was no blushing virgin, that was true, but he didn’t think he’d ever had an experience quite like that.  Maybe he was getting older, more sentimental.  Or maybe, just maybe, it was just Felicity. 

She was special and now he knew for sure; he’d never be able to let her go.  

Finally, he mustered the strength to roll off of her, coming to a rest on his back next to her.  

“Wow,” Felicity gasped, breathless.  She giggled a little. 

“Ditto,” he replied.  He reached over and squeezed her hand before dragging himself out of the bed and towards the bathroom attached to her room to dispose of the condom and clean up.  He brought a damp washcloth back for Felicity and he crawled back into bed next to her as she quickly cleaned herself up and then joined him underneath the covers.  

They spooned together naturally, her body curving perfectly against his as though she was made to fit against him.  Maybe she was.  Just like he was made to fit against her. His arms banded around her tightly and she hummed happily. 

“I love you,” he said quietly, wanting to be sure she knew that. 

“I love you, too,” she replied.  “While I won’t argue that wasn’t worth the wait, I still think we should have done that a lot sooner.” 

Oliver chuckled and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.  “Sorry it took me so long,” he mumbled.  “But I think you might take that back when you discover how insatiable I’ve become.”

The sound the rumbled out of her sounded distinctly like a purr.  “I’m counting on it.”

He groaned and held her tighter still as both of their breathing evened out and they drifted towards sleep.  Oliver’s last thought before sleep claimed him was that this was how he wanted to fall asleep from now on.  Now that he felt safe to stay.  That was all down to Felicity because with her, he _was_ safe.  And he was staying. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the delay on getting this chapter finished! It was a lot tougher to write than I expected and I really dragged my feet on it. As I promised last chapter, this is smut in this one so if that's not your thing, feel free to skip it. For those of you who do enjoy it, I hope it lives up to expectation!
> 
> This is the last chapter, the story is finished. I want to thank everyone who has read and commented and left kudos. You guys make doing this all worthwhile! I have some great stories that I want to write and share and now that this is finished, I can move forward with that!! 
> 
> Most of the chapter titles (as well as the title of the story) came from Michael Buble's "Close Your Eyes".


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